


Brand New And Loving You

by chameleon_666



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Disabled Character, Multi, Slow Burn, only main characters are tagged but almost everyone will make an appearance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-10-28 14:18:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10833006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chameleon_666/pseuds/chameleon_666
Summary: "Satya walked into the room, only to find her new roommate perched on the back of the couch. Some EDM song blasted from the stereo, and she had one fist deep in a bag of doritos, the other typing furiously on the laptop balanced precariously on her knee. Satya turned around, and walked back out."Can Hanzo learn to forgive himself? Will Sombra unmask the mysterious sponsor who's been depositing cheques since her eighteenth birthday? How will Angela deal with the hard truths she's about to be confronted with? Will any of them survive finals week? What is Overwatch, and why are they scouting U of G?





	1. August

**Author's Note:**

> These notes will get more interesting as the fic progresses I PROMISE but for now thank you for reading my story!! This is the first Overwatch fic I've done and I'm real excited about it!! I'm gonna aim for bi-weekly updates, but I am coming up on exams next month so it could be a tad erratic. Anyway. Enjoy!

Hanzo bore a stony scowl as he stared down at the letter. It was from his university - the University of Gibraltar. His rooming assignment for the new year. An uncomfortable mixture of guilt, panic, and anger brewed in his gut as he read over it again and again, as though the words would change and it wouldn’t be true, but the name persisted. He wondered if it was too late to find an apartment off campus. Or perhaps he was mistaken. Perhaps there was someone else with that name, maybe it wasn’t so uncommon. But Hanzo knew in his heart that his roommate was exactly who he thought it was.

He leaned back on the ugly, beige suede couch, and stared up at the spackled ceiling, trying to distract himself by making patterns and shapes out of the chaos. He was at some aunt’s house; he wasn’t quite sure if she was his mother’s sister or his father’s, or an aunt by marriage? He had been spending his summers with any family member who would take him while he was in college. Hanzo had never much enjoyed having a large family, but he had to admit it was nice to not have to live in some shelter, and with no job he couldn't afford rent _and_ school. It was far from ideal, though. He disliked living under his aunt’s thumb - her disapproval of him was clear in everything she did. He didn’t blame her - he was pierced and tattooed and had disowned himself. The last was a major point of strife between them. She tried to put him back in contact with his immediate family almost weekly. They fought over it just as often.

Hanzo tossed the sheet of paper onto the coffee table in front of him, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. The August air was warm, but it wasn’t what made him sweat now. The thought of being confronted head on by the face of the deed that was the cause of his guilt - it was too much. He tried not to panic, but the anxiety was rising in his throat. He wondered what his new roommate was thinking. Was he angry? Did he even remember him? Hanzo couldn’t believe that he wouldn’t, though. How could you forget the person who ruined your life? Maybe, he was dreading this just as much as Hanzo was. Was he going to get a follow-up letter informing him that he would actually be rooming alone? That his roommate had decided the situation was intolerable? He couldn’t decide if that would be better or worse.

Hanzo felt his fight or flight start to kick in, and given the choice he would choose flight every single time. He’d proven it over and over again. He got up from the couch, leaving his letter on the coffee table. The guest bedroom that he was sleeping in was just downstairs, but he paused at the landing, gazing out the front door at the dusk-soaked street. All he truly wanted in that moment was to run. He could do it, too, and it worried him how seriously he considered it. He stared at the door. It would be so easy just to pack a bag and leave a note for his aunt and flat-out _run_ . Feel the air stinging in his lungs and against his cheeks, the burn in his legs, the rhythm of his feet slapping against the pavement, and know that his crime would not come back to haunt him, not yet. He glanced back to the coffee table, to his letter. He had put so much work into his degree, too much to let all that go to waste simply because he was afraid. He would _not_ let his fear control him. It would be ridiculous to go to such lengths just to avoid someone. Surely, one person from his past could not scare him out of the life he’d made for himself. But he wondered, was it really so ridiculous if the person he was running from was the brother he’d nearly killed all those years ago?

-

To Sombra, one of the best things about being a shady, highly skilled hacker was getting the same single dorm with the big window every single year. So when her rooming assignment came in, she was expecting the same room she’d had for the past two years, but she was surprised to find a second sheet of paper in the envelope. She wondered if maybe the faculty had finally caught on. Maybe she’d be expelled? Or something worse? She sauntered over to her second-hand couch, and sat down, flipping herself over so her legs braced against the back of the couch. Sombra tore open the envelope, and read the letter aloud:

_Dear Ms. Doe_

Sombra snickered at that. Two years into her degree, and the school still didn’t know her real name. They simply referred to her as “Ms. Doe” in documents like this. Like an unidentified corpse.

_It has come to the attention of the Dean that you have once again attempted to infiltrate our secure files, and manipulate your rooming situation for the upcoming semester. We at the University of Gibraltar pride ourselves in having one of the most secure servers on the continent. We take the security of our students’ personal information very seriously._

_This, as we’re sure you are aware, is the third infraction you’ve committed in this regard. Your sponsor assures us that your position at this university is well-deserved, and your grades support that. As such, we are unable to take legal action at this time. However, your sponsor and the faculty were able to come up with what we deem is a suitable punishment. The attached paper outlines your rooming situation for the year. We hope you will find it satisfactory._

_Best wishes,_

_Dean Athena Winston_

Sombra sighed. She had known that eventually, the staff at the school would figure out a way to punish her. She had actually had fun, trying to imagine how it would happen. She knew they’d have to be creative. So it was with equal parts curiosity and fear that Sombra turned to the second page.

_ROOMING ASSIGNMENT: DOE, SOMBRA_

_STUDENT I.D. NUMBER: 524132341486181723211815_

_DORM ROOM NUMBER: 306_

_DORM MATE: VASWANI, SATYA_

Well shit, Sombra thought. A roommate. She’d never had one of those before. Unless you counted the orphanage, which Sombra did _not._ She let the papers fall to the floor, and turned right-side up again, feeling the blood rush away from her head. She let the tingly feeling in her legs subside, before hauling her computer onto her lap. The first thing she did was shoot a message off to her mysterious “sponsor”. She had never met them, and had no idea who they were. All she knew was that things were mysteriously paid for out of the blue, and that she’d landed a spot at the best university in Europe without even having to apply. She didn’t get to pick her major, but she would have chosen computer sciences anyway. On her eighteenth birthday, a taxi had picked her up from the orphanage, and brought her to a small, gloomy apartment. She had just sort of gone with it, and put the few resources she had into her tech. A year later, the letter from U of G arrived, and she just sort of went with that too.

_SOMBRA ONLINE_

_SOMBRA (10:52AM): so a roommate, huh?_

_A ONLINE_

_A (10:54AM): Come now, I think she’ll be a good influence on you._

_SOMBRA (10:54AM): is that so? did you pick her specially for me?_

_A (10:56AM): Have you looked her up?_

_SOMBRA (10:56AM): as we speak, amigo_

While she used the messaging app on her computer to talk to A, her sponsor, she had pulled up various news articles and social media profiles for Vaswani on her phone. Her facebook was pretty dry - her wall peppered with congratulations from family members but not much else, and she hadn’t touched twitter for three years. There were a few news articles from Indian papers though, telling the story of how an impoverished, autistic amputee had been plucked from her life of need, and transformed into an elegant, educated symbol for the future. All by the will of Vishkar, a giant in the world of urban planning and land development.

Sombra had to admit, in some ways this girl was her perfect roommate. She certainly sympathized with her situation. Satya had Vishkar, the Indian land development company that had promised to put her through school on the condition that she join up with them to head up their architecture department after she graduated. Sombra had her mysterious sponsor, A. They hadn’t made their agenda known just yet, but she knew there had to be some sort of motive there. Both girls were tech-savvy in the extreme, and both came from nothing.

Still, after reading a few interviews, Sombra was unsure. Satya herself seemed almost robotic, much too precise and careful. As though she was scared to death to say the wrong thing, yet poised and haughty. She kept her answers and comments neutral and calculated. Sombra wondered if it was because of Vishkar. Maybe if she said something they didn’t like in public, bye-bye scholarship. She felt a pang of gratitude that her situation with A was so private, and that A pretty much left her to her own devices. Provided she didn’t do anything _too_ illegal, and left them alone in turn, the monthly cheques kept coming.

_A (10:59AM): So, what do you think of her?_

_SOMBRA (11:09AM): i think you have good intentions._

_A (11:10AM): You’ll make it work, I know you._

_SOMBRA (11:10): do you? will i?_

_A OFFLINE_

Sombra slammed her computer shut in frustration, wincing at the angry snap.

“Sorry, _cariña_ ,” she whispered to the laptop. She set it down gingerly on the sofa beside her. Sombra couldn’t help being irritated, though. The mystery of A had haunted her for the past three years, and they only got more infuriating with time. The only contact she had with them was on a private messaging app that had simply downloaded itself onto her computer one day, and any attempt to hack into it or trace A’s IP lead to nothing but dead ends and thinly veiled threats. Normally, Sombra cared infinitely more about information than money, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew how to play strategically. If she had to go along with what this A character wanted her to do to get where she needed to be, then if they said jump, she’d ask how high. And if A told her to make nice with the Vaswani girl… Sombra chuckled to herself a little. She didn’t think Satya was ready for her.

-

“Fareeha, how are you?” Angela said. Since she had picked up the phone and heard her best friend’s warm tone, her lips had been upturned in a shy smile. She lay on her belly on top of the hand-made yellow quilt folded at the bottom of her bed, the sun, low in the sky, casting beams of golden warmth across her back. She pictured Fareeha, miles away, in a similar position. The Egyptian sun significantly hotter than her Swiss sun. She could almost hear the clanging of pots and pans from Ms. Amari in the kitchen cooking dinner, see their dog Talia, lounging in the sunny spot on the floor.

“Good! Very good!” Fareeha said.

“You seem excited, have you got something to tell me?” Angela asked, a hint of laughter in her voice.

“I take it you haven’t gotten your rooming assignment yet,” Fareeha said.

“No, it’s probably sitting in my mailbox right now, though. I haven’t been to check the mail in a couple weeks. Did you get yours?” Angela asked. She twirled a stray lock of hair around her finger. 

“Yes, I just got it this afternoon,” Angela could hear the grin in her voice, “Room 304, roommate: Angela Ziegler!”

“We’re rooming together?” Angela asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice. She sat up, pin straight.

“Yes! Isn’t it exciting? We get to live together for a whole year!” Fareeha exclaimed.

A sick, selfish sort of joy bloomed in the pit of Angela’s stomach. Living with Fareeha. The information twisted her gut, making her face hot for reasons she didn’t understand. A joyous squeal escaped her mouth, and she giggled in embarrassment.

“Just like we always talked about in middle school!” Angela said, “Oh, this is perfect!”

“Right? This is going to be great,” Fareeha said. There was a faint shout in the background - Ms. Amari, Angela imagined, and then, “Sorry, I’ve got to go. I just wanted to tell you. Talk later?”

“Definitely, _auf wiedersehen_ ,” Angela said. She waited for Fareeha to hang up first, then hit the “call end” button, and stared out the window for a moment. Angela couldn’t quite place why she felt so exhilarated, yet terrified at the thought of living with Fareeha. They were best friends, of course, and they’d talked about living together since they were young. Fareeha had helped her through so much; bullies, and the deaths of both her parents. Angela in turn had been by Fareeha’s side when she came out, and while she was going through her parent’s divorce. Angela had never trusted someone so much as Fareeha, she felt safe when they were together.

Angela fell down face-first into her pillow. There was a nervous, chaotic energy dancing in her gut, like a swarm of flies. Perhaps she was worried that living together would ruin their friendship. She’d heard horror stories about people moving in with their friends, only to find that they were terrible roommates. And she knew she wouldn’t exactly be a joy to live with either. She had to believe it would be ok, though. She just couldn’t stand to lose Fareeha. She would have to swallow her anxiety, like she was so good at doing, and make it work. Angela curled in around her pillow. It would be good, she thought. Living with her best friend. It would be good.


	2. September

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo is nice to his aunt, and meets Genji for the first time in eight years.
> 
> Sombra is a little shit, and things might be more complicated with Satya than she thought.
> 
> Angela is insecure, and Fareeha is perfect as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I just wanted to say thank you so much for such an amazing response to the first chapter of this fic???? You are all amazing. This chapter was pretty difficult to write, it was hard to do the moving in thing three times without making it feel too repetitive. I hope I did an ok job :) Enjoy!
> 
> p.s: please imagine Sombra wearing the "I'm a luxury few can afford" shirt. that is all.

The last weeks before the start of term passed in a hot, anxious blur for Hanzo, and before he knew it, move-in day was upon him. The nervous buzzing in his head made him irritable and moody - even more so than usual. He had started to suspect that his aunt regretted taking him in. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. Hanzo knew he was being a brat about the situation. Despite the turmoil swirling through his veins though, the last night before he left had been a good one.

“I am sure it will all work out for the best,” Aunt Azumi said. She stood by the door of Hanzo’s room, wringing her hands. Hanzo was at his dresser, packing his clothes into a cardboard box.

He hummed.

“It isn’t good for you to be away from your family like this, Hanzo,” she said.

Hanzo hummed again.

“You know he will forgive you,” she said, quieter this time.

Hanzo paused his packing, and turned to look at her.

“How can you believe that?” he asked, “I am beyond redemption.”

“No one is beyond redemption,” Aunt Azumi said. She walked over to where Hanzo stood, and put a hand on his shoulder, “You made a child’s mistake. Genji knows this. He is ready to move on, if you will let him.”

Hanzo turned away, “I-”

Without much warning, there were arms around Hanzo’s waist.

“The two of you need to repair what was broken. Be whole again, be _kazoku_ again,” she said, “After all, you only have each other now.”

It was true. Their mother had died only a few months after the accident, and their father a few years later.

Hanzo tentatively returned Aunt Azumi’s embrace, unsure of how to respond.

“Actually… that is not true,” he said finally, “Because now I have you.”

Aunt Azumi pulled him tighter, “Of course, of course you do.”

That night, Hanzo had cooked dinner for Aunt Azumi, and presented her with a gift: a blue silk scarf that he’d seen in a shop downtown. She had given him a tearful smile, repeating her thank yous at least a dozen times. Hanzo saw it as a small gesture though, barely making up for the brooding silences, bouts of yelling, and general unpleasantness that he had hurled at her over the course of the summer. And it didn’t even begin to thank her for putting up with his pet snakes. She had made it obvious that she didn’t exactly approve of how he chose to live, but her good intentions shone through. He could tell by her actions that she really did care about him.

Even though the guilt of how he had treated Aunt Azumi weighed heavy on him, that night Hanzo felt genuinely loved for the first time in years, and it filled him with warmth. As the taxi pulled away from the house the next morning, she stood on the porch and waved goodbye to him, and he waved back. Speeding away from the house, Hanzo caught himself making plans to come back the next summer, if she would have him back.

The flight was fairly uneventful. A movie played in a language he didn’t understand, but the colours were nice, so he let it loop through the whole flight. It lulled him into a calm, drowsy state, and he napped through most of the trip. The drive was a different story. There was a tightness in his chest that set in as soon as he turned the key in the rental car, getting worse and worse the closer he got to the school. Hanzo rolled down the window, letting the summer breeze play in his hair. It made him feel a little better to breathe in the fresh air, he had begun to feel as though the car was suffocating him. Still, when he finally arrived he had to take a moment before getting out of the car - a few deep breaths to steady himself.

Hanzo popped the trunk and looked down at the few small boxes he had to his name. His lack of personal possessions made moving a breeze. Or it had in previous years, Hanzo thought. Perhaps it was his anxiety, or the boiling hot day, but merely thinking about carrying his things up to his room made him feel exhausted. A combination of the two, he decided.

Hanzo hoisted a box of his textbooks out of the trunk, and made his way to the elevator. He had arrived fairly early in the day - around ten am - so the campus was sparse with students. Mostly overly eager freshmen, he imagined. The elevator door pinged open, and Hanzo stepped inside, dropping the heavy box with a thud. He hit the button for the third floor, but as the door began to close, a brown leather boot jammed itself in. The door reopened, revealing the owner of the shoe. He was a tall, tawny-skinned man with one prosthetic arm. He wore a cream-coloured henley with a red flannel tied loosely around his waist, and carried a duffel bag that was almost comically large. The man gave a lopsided grin, and stepped into the elevator.

“Third floor?” Hanzo asked.

“Yessir,” the man replied, speaking in a strong southern accent.

Hanzo nodded.

The man gave a low whistle, “Hotter’n a billy goat with a blowtorch out there, huh?”

Hanzo blinked. English was not his first language, but he suspected that even if it had been he would not have understood what the man had said.

“Indeed,” he replied.

“I’m pretty used to it, though. Gets awful hot down’ New Mexico. Name’s Jesse, by the way. English major,” he stuck out his hand.

“Hanzo, world history,” Hanzo said. He took Jesse’s hand and gave it a quick shake.

“Not Hanzo Shimada, by any chance?” Jesse asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Hanoz said. He side-eyed Jesse, inching backwards.

“You’ll be Genji’s brother then,” Jesse said. He offered another crooked smile.

“What?” Hanzo stiffened, his eyes going wide.

“I’m a friend of his,” Jesse explained, “I don’t know if excited is exactly the right word to use, but he nearly crawled outta his skin when he found out you two would be bunking up this year.”

The elevator door dinged open.

“It was nice to meet you, Jesse,” Hanzo said, and took off down the hall before Jesse could even open his mouth to reply.

Hanzo walked up to his room - 305 - and pulled the key out of his pocket. But he could even get it in the lock, the door opened.

It wasn’t Genji. It was a bald-headed man who looked young enough to still be in high school. He wore baggy, patterned pants and a t-shirt for a band Hanzo had never heard of.

“Hello,” he said with an amicable smile on his face.

“Hello. I’m sorry, is this 305? Do I have the wrong room?” Hanzo asked.

“No, I’m sorry, this is 305. You must be Hanzo?” The man said.

Hanzo nodded, and the man moved to let him in.

“Sorry for the confusion, my name is Zenyatta. I am a friend of Genji’s,” The man said.

“Is he here?” Hanzo asked.

Before Zenyatta could answer, a shock of green hair poked up from behind a stack of boxes, and voice that was familiar but not spoke up.

“Is who here?” Genji asked.

Hanzo froze. He felt that urge to run again, and maybe he would have if not for the fact that Zenyatta was blocking the door.

“Genji,” he said.

Genji stepped out from behind the boxes. Hanzo barely recognized him at first. His skin was scarred, covered in some places by tattoos. Dragon motifs, eerily similar to his own. Long, thick spirals snaked through his stretched earlobes, and his face was pierced through at least five times over. The longer Hanzo looked at him though, the easier it became to reconcile this Genji with the fourteen year old he had seen being loaded up into the ambulance so many years ago.

“Brother?” Genji said, hushed, but not upset. His expression was soft, a far cry from the anger and resentment that Hanzo had expected. It was like a bittersweet happiness.

“Brother,” Hanzo repeated. He kept his own expression steely and neutral.

Genji opened his mouth to speak again, but he was cut of by the knock at the door. Hanzo flinched, which made Genji snort. He hadn’t even noticed Zenyatta leave, but he supposed he must have since the door was closed and the boy was nowhere to be seen. Hanzo turned and pulled the door open to see Jesse with a cardboard box at his feet.

“Ah, sorry to interrupt fellas, but you left your box in the elevator,” Jesse said, “Thought I’d bring it ‘round. D’you mind?”

Hanzo shook his head, and motioned for Jesse to come in.

“Howdy, Genji,” he said, nodding towards him.

“Hello, Jesse,” Genji didn’t take his eyes off Hanzo.

“I’ll, uh, swing by again later, ok? Seems y’ain’t finished catchin’ up just yet,” Jesse said.

“Yes, I’ll see you later,” Genji said.

Jesse nodded. He sat the box down and backed out of the room. Once the door clicked shut, Hanzo turned back to Genji.

“How do you understand anything that comes out of his mouth?” Hanzo asked.

Genji laughed out loud. The sound caused a flutter of childhood memories to rise to the surface of Hanzo’s mind. For just a moment, he saw a young, fresh-faced Genji jumping around, trying to catch the cherry blossoms as they fell from the big tree in the back yard.

“Mostly I don’t. I think he knows that, but it makes him feel better if I pretend I do.” Genji said, bringing Hanzo back to the present, “It is almost worse to listen to him try to explain.”

Hanzo cracked a smile at that, “I will try to keep that in mind.”

The pair stood in awkward silence for a moment. Hanzo took the opportunity to study the room. It was large enough, he thought, two beds against one wall, with a window on the adjacent wall. There was one closet, and one chest of drawers, which must have been Genji’s. A tapestry depicting two dragons hung over one of the beds.

“It’s nice,” Hanzo said, gesturing to the hanging.

“Hm? Oh,” Genji said, turning to see what Hanzo was pointing to, “Thank you. Mother had it made. After the ah-”

“Yes,” Hanzo cut him off. He knew exactly what Genji was referring to, “It reminds me of the story she used to tell us at night.” It was almost strange to think back to a time when he and Genji had been so close.

Genji smiled, “I believe that was what she had in mind,” he walked over to the hanging, bringing his hand up to trace over the blue dragon’s face, “It brought me comfort. I missed-”

Hanzo cut him off, “I will be back shortly, I have a pet waiting in my car,” He turned away from Genji so as not to see the hurt look on his face as his hand fell away from the tapestry. Hanzo left the room as swiftly as he could without running, yanking the door closed behind him.

-

Around 4:30 in the afternoon on move in day, Sombra pulled up to the campus, frappuccino in hand. The stereo played so loudly out of the trunk that the car itself shuddered to the beat. Sombra didn’t even spare a glance at the student parking lot, she instead pulled into the faculty lot, parking over Professor Morrison’s spot. It was a back to school tradition. She got out of her car and moved her sunglasses to the top of her head, surveying the school. From the outside at least, it looked cleaner than at the end of term last year, with a fresh coat of paint on all the railings, and a freshly mown front lawn making the air smell of cut grass.

More than anything, the school was becoming a strangely familiar, almost comforting setting. She had friends, and spent all day every day doing what she was best at. Plus, she knew all the most exploitable weaknesses that the place had to offer. Knowing that she could bring any person in the school - student or teacher - to their knees with only a couple of screenshots made her feel very secure, and made the institution look laughably small.

It would have been utterly perfect, if not for the fact that the one person Sombra had nothing on was the person who had the power to take it all away on a whim. She told herself that she was letting A control her, for her own future benefit. In reality, the unshakeable feeling of vulnerability bothered her more than she could admit to even herself.

Sombra pulled her backpack from the backseat of the car. It was a large, camping-style bag that contained all of her clothes and toiletries, her computer and assorted charging cords and usb cables were in the laptop bag resting against her hip. The rest of her things were being shipped. Her car was much too small to carry it all. She put her earbuds in, cranked up the music, and smiled. She felt more than ready to make a truly great first impression on her new roommate.

“Hola, _Gabe_ ,” Sombra said with a cheeky smile as she passed her Spanish prof in the hall. She pulled one earbud out and gave a little wave.

“Sombra, I’ve asked you to call me Professor Reyes,” Gabe said with a thoroughly unamused expression, his voice so low it was almost a growl. Freshmen usually assumed he had a throat condition, or was a chainsmoker or something. But no, that was just Gabe.

“And I’ve told you: _ain’t gonna happen_ ,” Sombra said.

Gabe shook his head, “I don’t know why I bother.”

“Me either. Hey, can’t wait to be back in your class,” she said.

“I don’t know why you insist on failing, Sombra. I know you speak perfect Spanish.”

“Please, Gabey, you love me. I’m a joy to have in class,” Sombra said.

“You’re something, alright,” Gabe said, “See you on Monday.”

“Bye Gabe!” Sombra called as Gabe continued down the hall. Teasing Gabe was one her favourite hobbies, second only to teasing Jack, the English lit professor. Gabe was fun because he took it so well, Jack was fun because he didn’t. She’d never actually taken his class, but she had quickly discovered just by making snide comments as she passed him in the halls that he was simply too easy. Especially when she brought up the fact that everyone knew he and Gabe were high-key fucking. She hadn’t even had proof the first time, just a lucky guess. But his reaction had told her all she needed to know.

When Sombra arrived at room 306 a few minutes later, she paused. She stood there with her hand on the doorknob for a good thirty seconds, not really knowing why. There was a fluttering in her stomach. In the time it had taken her to walk from her car to her room, she had gone from excited to nervous, which wasn’t something she experienced often. It was an entirely unwelcome sensation. Nervous people made mistakes.

The nervousness subsided somewhat when she opened the door. Game face on, and all that. Sunlight filtered in through the gauzy orange curtains that Satya must have put up, giving the room a warm, atmospheric vibe. Satya herself sat cross-legged at her desk, hunched over a piece of paper that was so large it hung over the edges of her workspace, with assorted rulers, pencils, and erasers scattered about.

Sombra thought she looked very different from her pictures online. Smaller, and more relaxed. Instead of the formal cream coloured uniform of the Vishkar architect, this Satya wore loose-fitting grey cotton pants, with a cropped sky blue tank top, her glossy black hair parted down the center and cascaded down her back in a smooth sheet. Her prosthetic arm was streamlined and sleek, looking like a natural extension of her body despite being obviously mechanical. Vishkar must have their fingers in a lot of pies to be able to give her something so high-tech, Sombra thought. Every ounce of the stiffness she had shown online was gone, her posture loose and relaxed. She had headphones on, and nodded her head along with the beat.

Sombra also noticed that the room appeared to be divided strictly in half already, Satya having claimed the right side. It was impeccable. The white bedding was completely smooth, not a wrinkle or speck of lint to be seen. The items on her bedside table, while a little strange for someone Satya’s age - they looked like some sort of toys? - looked almost as though they had been placed with a ruler. Sombra suspected from the faint scent of smoke and jasmine that she had been burning incense earlier.

“ _Hola_ , Satya,” Sombra said, probably louder than was strictly necessary. She tossed her backpack onto the unmade bed to the left of the room.

Satya jumped and whirled around in her chair, her posture stiffening. She pulled her headphones off, letting them rest around her neck, and scowled at Sombra.

“Relax, It’s just me. I’m your new roommate,” Sombra said, holding her hand out for Satya to shake. Satya stared at it.

“Kindly knock next time, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said, “I don’t do well with sudden noises.”

Sombra raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, “ _Amiga_ , I’m not going to knock before I enter my own room.”

“Then we are going to have a problem,” Satya said, a chill in her voice.

Sombra sighed, “You can lower those hackles, _chica_ , I’m not looking for trouble. Just not used to living with a roommate. Gonna need some give and take, _comprendes_?”

Satya sighed, and turned back to her drawing.

“It would be to both of our benefits for you to adapt quickly,” she said.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Sombra said. She crossed the room and sat down cross-legged on her bed.

“Apology accepted. I was told that this is an… unconventional situation. It will take some getting used to for both of us,” Satya had turned her chair back around to face Sombra, but she wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Agreed,” Sombra said, “Anyway, it’s good to finally meet you. I’ve been reading up on you, doing my research.”

“Research?” Satya raised an eyebrow.

“ _Si_. You’re sort of famous, you know? Rags to riches and child prodigy all wrapped up in one cute little package,” Sombra said, smirking when Satya’s face reddened.

“You’ve read my articles,” Satya said. She tucked a stray bit of perfectly smooth hair behind her ear.

“Of course. Wanted to get to know you a little,” Sombra said.

“That… is slightly unsettling,” Satya said.

“That’s how I roll,” Sombra grinned, leaning back against the wall and tucking her hands behind her head.

That made Satya crack a smile, and suddenly the fluttering was back. Oh, Sombra thought, _Oh_.

“You’re right though,” Sombra said, “I forget how weird it is sometimes. Not exactly a people person, you know? Tell you what, ask me anything you want. Then things won’t feel so one-sided, yeah?”

“Okay,” Satya said, “First question: where are you from?”

“Mexico. Next?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty two,”

“Major?”

“Computer sciences,”

Satya considered for a moment, “Forgive me if this is intrusive,” she said, “but I must ask: Is Doe your real surname?”

“Pfft, no. I just won’t tell them my real last name,” Sombra laughed.

“Why not?” Satya inquired, cocking her head to the side. The fluttering intensified, and Sombra felt her cheeks starting to go red.

“Just think it’s funny, I guess,” Sombra said with a shrug, “Listen, I’ll be right back, ok? Gotta run to the _baño de damas_.”

Satya nodded and turned back to the work she’d been doing before Sombra had arrived. Sombra hopped up from the bed, and left the room swiftly. She jogged the few steps down the hallway to 303, and pounded on the door as hard as she could.

Jesse opened the door after a few seconds, and Sombra shoved him backwards into the room, following and pulling the door closed behind her.

“Sombra? What’s goin’ on? Not that I don’t love seein’ ya, but seriously, what the fuck?” Jesse looked confused.

“Jesse, I have a problem.”

-

“Angela?” Fareeha asked. It had been a few hours since the two arrived at the school. After a not-so-quick detour to Lena’s room to help her unstick her desk chair from the doorway, Ms. Amari insisting on having them over for lunch in the teacher’s quarters, and a coffee and tea run, they had finally made it to the actual dorm. They unpacked in relative silence, something that was out of place between them.

“Yes, Fareeha?” Angela said, turning to face Fareeha.

“What’s upsetting you?” Fareeha asked. She walked over to where Angela stood, “You’re never this quiet, is something wrong?”

“No, it’s nothing,” Angela said as she turned back to the closet, hanging up a red turtleneck.

Fareeha put a hand on Angela’s shoulder and gently turned her back around.

“ _Malak_ , please. That’s your anxious face,” she said.

Angela stared up at Fareeha. Her face was earnest, showing genuine concern and care.

“I’m scared, I think,” Angela whispered.

“What?” Fareeha said, confusion written all over her face, “Why are you scared?”

“I’m afraid we will start to hate each other if we live together,” Angela said. Saying it out loud, she felt embarrassed, it sounded so silly. She stared down at the floor.

“Really?” Fareeha said. Angela looked back up at her.

“I’ve heard so many stories about people moving in with their friends, it ruins relationship! I don’t want that. We’ve been friends for so long, I could not stand to lose you just because I leave the lights on too late, or you drink all my milk, or I forget to go shopping. I’m terrible to live with. You know that!” Angela said, starting to tear up a little.

“Angela, Angela, calm down!” Fareeha said, smiling.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” Angela scowled up at Fareeha.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you don’t need to worry about any of that! It’s not even like this is the first time we’ve lived together,” Fareeha put her hands on Angela’s arms, steadying her.

Fareeha was, of course, referring to third grade. The Amaris had been living in Switzerland for Ms. Amari’s job, and the two were at school together. Angela remembered meeting Fareeha for the first time. Despite being the new girl, she was anything but shy. Angela, on the other hand, had always prefered books to friends. For some reason, Fareeha had decided that the weird girl in the back of the classroom was destined to be her best friend, and it wasn’t long before she was.

It was that same year that Angela’s parents were killed, leaving her with no family to speak of. Though they were only children, and could not possibly comprehend the weight of the tragedy that had struck that year, Fareeha stayed by Angela’s side the whole time. And Ms. Amari hadn’t even hesitated - she’d taken Angela in immediately, caring for her as though she was her own. They’d lived together until sixth grade, when some great aunt had come out of the woodwork to claim Angela. Then the Amaris had moved back to Egypt, but at Fareeha’s request vacationed at least two weeks in Switzerland every summer.

“That was different,” Angela shook her head, “We were just kids then.”

“Yes, but you are still you, and I am still me, and we are still us,” Fareeha said. She pulled Angela into a tight hug.

“I know. I know it’s silly and I shouldn’t worry, but you know how I get,” Angela said, pulling her even closer. Angela buried her face in Fareeha’s neck, inhaling her familiar scent. She felt so safe, she wished she could just stay there forever.

“I know. And I’m always here to talk you down,” Fareeha said. She rubbed circles on Angela’s back with her thumb. Angela smiled into the hug. She had always loved how close they were, how comfortable they were around each other.

“Thank you,” Angela said. Fareeha pulled back, smiling down at her.

“You’re going to be fine. We are going to be fine. Now come on, we should finish unpacking,” Fareeha said.

“Yes, probably,” Angela sighed, “I want to go visit Genji this evening, he’s just down the hall this year.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Fareeha said. She retreated to her side of the room and went back to taping her sports posters to the wall behind her bed.

“Sure,” Angela said, “Or you could come with?”

“Nah, I think I want to go for a run. I’m all stiff from the flight,” Fareeha said. She grabbed her leg, pulling it up into a stretch.

“Alright, drink lots of water,” Angela said.

“Yes, yes, Doctor Ziegler, I know,” Fareeha teased.

“I’m not a doctor yet, Fareeha,” Angela grinned.

“Close enough,” she grinned back.

“Well, when I get sued for trying to practice as “close enough” to a doctor, you can be my lawyer,” Angela said.

Fareeha wrinkled her nose, “I’m not going to be a lawyer, I’m going to be a pilot!”

“A lawyer-pilot. Any luck getting your mother on board?” Angela asked. The matter of Fareeha’s career was a point of major contention in the Amari household. Ms. Amari had been a sniper in the Egyptian military in her youth, but had settled into a more stable teaching career after the accident that took her eye. Fareeha wanted nothing more than to protect her country like her mother had, and had been fascinated by planes and flying since she could remember. A career as an airforce pilot had been her dream since she was a child. Ms. Amari, however, was terrified that something could happen to her daughter, like it happened to her. Fareeha had placated her mother by going into criminal justice, under the guise of attending law school later on. But really, she wanted nothing more than earn her pilot’s license, and join the army.

“No,” Fareeha said, “She’s so stubborn.”

“Like mother like daughter,” Angela teased, “You have explained to her why it’s so important to you, though. And it’s not like she could stop you. You’re an adult.”

“Yes, but I want her to be on board with this. She’s my mama, you know?” Fareeha shrugged.

Angela nodded, pulling a few more sweaters out of a box, hanging them carefully in the closet.

“I understand,” she said, “You want her to be proud.”

“Exactly,” Fareeha said.

“You should do what makes you happy though,” Angela said. She started unloading her toiletries onto a shelf in the closet.

Fareeha had started refolding clothes, “I don’t know if could do it without her support.”

“Well,” Angela said, “For what it’s worth, you have mine no matter what.”

Fareeha turned back to face Angela, a soft smile on her lips.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff about this chapter:  
> ~ Malak - Angel  
> ~ Baño de damas - Ladies room  
> ~ Kazoku - Family  
> ~ Aunt Azumi's name means "safe residence" which I thought was pretty appropriate.  
> ~ Hanzo's pet snakes are named Ryu and Suki (and YES they have separate tanks I researched snake keeping a Bunch)  
> ~ Sombra is the most extra character I have ever written I stg  
> ~ The things on Satya's nightstand are stim toys, in case I didn't make that clear enough  
> ~ Jesse is the glue that holds this whole story together tbh  
> ~ Yaint  
> ~ Me? Projecting onto my favourite character Angela? It's more likely than you think.  
> ~ Fareeha's dad is Canadian and the posters she was putting up were hockey posters. Feel free to speculate on which teams she likes idk what a Hockey is
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed :) Now that everything is established, the story is gonna start to get a lot more interesting! Also, if any of my readers are members of the cultures that I'm trying to write, let me know how I'm doing! I've been doing a lot of research, but I am white + north american so please don't hesitate to call me out on anything offensive. I want to portray these characters as accurately as I can :) This also goes for any autistic readers I might have!


	3. September 2: the Septembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hanzo and Genji start to feel the strain of living together, Sombra plans a party, and Angela is Straight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, it's chameleon_666 here back with another fic update  
> Patch notes:
> 
> \- Chapter 1 (August) received a slight nerf in order to account for the plothole imbalance some users reported  
> \- The Chapter Layout functionality was buffed:  
> \- Chapters will now feature an "All Heros" mode  
> \- New Hero: Amelie Lacroix  
> \- Abilities include ballet dancing as a coping mechanism, and French cursewords
> 
> That's all for this week, I really hope you guys enjoy the new features we've implemented!

The University of Gibraltar was a school full to bursting with overachievers and intellectuals. It was a school that catered to nearly all interests and fields, and brought together the best and brightest from across all areas of study and all corners of the Earth. Among these students from so many different walks of life, there was but one constant that could always be counted on to bring them all together: Breakfast.

Breakfast time was a sacred affair. It didn’t matter what time your first class was, or how late you had been up working the night before, or whether you even _liked_ eating breakfast. The freshmen learned very quickly each year that everyone, student and teacher alike, communed in the dining hall at six thirty in the morning when it opened. Classes started early, and so most students were up that early anyway. Over the years it became an unspoken ritual, something that not even the most cynical student would dare disrupt.

Gathered around one of the long wooden tables in the middle of the hall, a group of student chattered idly as they ate.

“I’m just saying,” Hana said through a mouthful of cereal, “It’s kind of weird that they’ve got scouters at a university, right?”

“Not really,” said her roommate Lucio, who sat beside her buttering a piece of toast, “Big companies and research firms hang around all the time.”

“But that’s usually at the end of the year when we start apprenticeships and work placements,” Hana said, “It’s still September. Plus, these guys aren’t covered in logos like the scouters usually are. And they don’t give out free pens, so obviously they’re evil.”

Lucio shrugged, “Maybe they’re government?”

“Maybe. It’s still _weird_ ,” Hana said.

“What’s weird?” Lena asked. She had just arrived, hand in hand with her girlfriend, Emily. A few people shifted down the bench to make room for them.

“The creepy suits lurking around campus,” Fareeha said.

Lena nodded, “Oh, them. Absolutely shady. I tried talking to one of them, wouldn’t even tell me who they’re with.”

“Seriously?” Lucio said. Lena nodded.

“I heard a rumour,” Jesse said.

“You mean you asked Gabe,” Sombra said.

Jesse rolled his eyes, “Whatever, yes.”

“Oh, what did Papa Reyes tell you?” Fareeha teased. Sombra snorted.

“He ain’t my dad!” Jesse said indignantly, “I wouldn’t want him to be either, the grumpy fucker.”

“That’s no way to talk about your father, Jesse,” Angela chided.

“Do y’all wanna hear what he told me or not?” Jesse crossed his arms.

“Yes! Shut up, guys,” Hana said, leaning forward.

“ _So_ ,” Jesse said, “he wouldn’t tell me much. Just that they provide opportunities that the general public don’t have access to, and that it’d be well worth my time to look into it,”

“What does _that_ mean?” Hana asked.

Jesse shrugged, “Dunno. Betcha they’re from some shadowy, top-secret government-funded research facility.”

“You’re not serious?” Angela said.

“You don’t know, it could happen!” Jesse said.

“Sounds like bullshit,” Jamie said, spraying poptart crumbs.

“Yes, I’m sorry Jesse, but that does sound a little far-fetched,” Genji said.

Hanzo, face down on the table, made a noise of agreement.

“Whatever,” Jesse said, “No use speculatin’. I’m sure Sombra’ll have it cracked faster ‘n a knife fight in a phone booth.”

“Bet on it, _amigos_ ,” Sombra said with a grin.

“Good,” Hana said, seeming satisfied that Sombra was on the case, “So, creepy secret agent guys aside, who else feels like they’re being buried alive already?”

A chorus of groans followed.

“Only a week and half into classes and somehow I’m already late on a paper,” Angela lamented. Fareeha patted her shoulder.

“Want to know what I think?” Sombra said.

“Nope,” Jesse smirked. Sombra reached across the table and flicked him on the ear. Hanzo, without picking his head up off the table, raised his hand and high fived her.

“No one asked you, Jesse. I think we need a party,” Sombra said.

“Seconded!” Lucio said, “I’ll bring my setup, we’ll blow the roof off!”

“Excellent.” Sombra grinned, “My place, Friday. Be there.”

 

-

 

_Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap._ Hanzo never listened to music when he ran. The steady rhythm of his feet against the pavement, his quickened heartbeat, and his deep breathing melded together into a natural symphony that was proof he was alive. He felt almost meditative when he ran, it calmed him, centered him, made him feel a little more solid.

One of the first things he’d done upon arriving at U of G was search for a decent place to run. Any place would work if he needed it bad enough, but Hanzo liked privacy, and he liked quiet, and the campus was big enough that he could probably afford to be a little bit picky. After auditioning a few different places, he’d fallen in love with the trail out back of the soccer field; it was paved, flat, and perfect for running. And in the cool evenings that were Hanzo’s favourite times for running, the trail was totally deserted. Most likely others were kept away by the mosquitos and horseflies, but Hanzo wasn’t deterred. It was the most beautiful time of day, he thought, and the amber glow of the Spanish sunset filtering through the trees that hung over the path was almost as beautiful as back home. _Almost._

“‘Scuse us, love!” A voice called out from behind him, shaking him out of his concentration. Hanzo turned his head to see two women; one very tall and very imposing with bright pink hair, the other a miniscule brunette. He moved to the side of the path, and let the pair pass. So much for deserted.

“Thank you!” the brunette said, waving at Hanzo as she ran by. Luna, her name was. Or Lena? Something like that. He’d seen her at breakfast, and she’d been by the dorm room a few times to see Genji.

That was something Hanzo hadn’t been prepared for, but really should have anticipated. It seemed like Genji was friends with absolutely everyone. There was always some new stranger in the dorm, studying or playing video games or watching movies with him. Hanzo wondered if Jesse even _had_ his own room, he was in theirs so often.

Hanzo slowed his pace, eventually coming to a full stop at the bench that marked the trail’s halfway point. Genji always had been the one everybody liked. He didn’t know why he’d thought a few scars would change that.

The sky was dark by the time Hanzo made it back. He entered the room to see Genji sitting at his desk doing homework, and a sleeping Jesse McCree laying halfway on Hanzo’s bed, halfway on the floor. His posture looked incredibly uncomfortable, but the man was like a cat; if he stayed still long enough he’d inevitably fall asleep. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence to return from his run to find Genji asleep in one bed, Jesse in the other. Sometimes Hanzo left him alone and retreated to the student lounge couches, but he had a quiz in the morning and he needed his rest. Not to mention the fact that he had left his towel on the bed, and he was in desperate need of a shower after running. He could see the corner of it, pinned by Jesse’s broad shoulders. Hanzo stared at it dejectedly, looking from the towel over to Genji, and back again.

“Genji, he’s done it again,” Hanzo complained.

“Shh, he’s asleep,” Genji mock-whispered as Hanzo stared down at the man on his bed.

“Not for long, he isn’t,” Hanzo muttered. He grabbed the corner of the towel, and in one swift movement yanked it out from behind Jesse.

Jesse startled awake. He slid all the way onto the floor and looked wildly around the room, eventually landing on Hanzo’s unimpressed face. Jesse’s eyes drooped, and he let his head flop down onto the bed with a yawn. He stared up through his eyelashes at Hanzo, his face reddening.

“I did it again, huh?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hanzo said. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Shit, sorry ‘bout that, Han. Swear I don’t do it on purpose,” Jesse sat up. He pawed at his eyes and stretched, his shirt pulling up and showing off his toned abdomen. Hanzo cringed a little at the nickname. Jesse seemed to have one for everyone.

“I know,” Hanzo threw the towel over his shoulder. He turned to face Genji, “Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep again when I leave.”

Genji snickered, “Sure.”

“You don’t trust me?” Jesse teased, “Ya wound me, Han. I thought we really had somethin’.”

“In your dreams,” Hanzo snarked back, quirking an eyebrow.

Jesse grinned, “In my nightmares.”

Hanzo rolled eyes, “Please,” he scoffed, “You should be so lucky.” He heard Jesse chuckle at that. As he grabbed his pyjama pants off the chair by his closet and started to leave, he could feel Jesse’s eyes follow him. Hanzo paused by the door.

“Goodnight, Jesse,” he said.

“G’night, Han.” Hanzo looked back at Jesse before he left. He looked like an absolute fool, still half asleep with his shirt askew, and a goofy, lopsided grin on his face. Despite himself, Hanzo smiled back.

Hanzo tried to go to bed after his shower, but sleep evaded him. His bed was suddenly both far too hard and far too soft, no position alleviating his discomfort. He was too hot and too cold no matter where the blankets were. The glare from Genji’s desk lamp and the sound of his pen on paper grated on his nerves like an itch. Selfish as it was, he almost wished that Genji would leave - just until he could fall asleep. Being alone with his brother filled him with a nervous energy, and he felt sure it was exactly that that kept him from falling asleep.

Hanzo gave up on sleep after about a half an hour. He paced around the room, searching for anything to channel the ball of anxious energy in his stomach into. He gave each of his snakes fresh water, and Genji’s lizard as well for good measure. Ryu and Suki seemed grateful, in their own snakey ways, but the lizard simply blinked at him, and retreated into his log.

“Ungrateful,” Hanzo muttered. He thought about putting a movie on, but nothing looked appealing. Instead, he pulled out the textbook for his ancient civilizations class. May as well be productive, he figured. A little extra studying before the quiz in the morning couldn’t hurt. Besides, he loved history. If anything could hold his attention, that would be it.

“History?” Genji said, looking up from his own reading.

Hanzo hummed.

“Why?” he inquired.

Hanzo shrugged.

“It was your favourite when we were young, I remember. I never understood why. Why dwell on the mistakes of the past?” Genji said. His gaze became more pointed.

Hanzo said nothing

Genji sighed, “I am studying psychology, if you care,” he said

Hanzo again said nothing.

Genji put his book down and crossed his arms, sighing at Hanzo.

“Yes?” Hanzo said, finally looking up.

“Nothing,” Genji shook his head, and picked his book back up. A few moments later, though, Hanzo caught him staring again.

“Do you need something?” Hanzo asked.

Genji looked irritated now.

“Am I not allowed to look at my own brother?” he said, “It has been a while. I’d nearly forgotten what you looked like.”

Hanzo refused to meet his eye, staring intently at his textbook, without really absorbing anything. He felt his eye twitch at the word brother, and he knew that detail hadn’t escaped Genji’s notice.

“Am I not allowed to call you my brother?” he said, raising his voice. For the first time, Hanzo saw real anger in Genji’s face. It hurt him, but it was good, he thought. Genji _should_ be angry with him.

“Am I not allowed to be your brother?!” he continued, “Will you not allow me? I am trying, Hanzo!”

“You shouldn’t,” Hanzo said, head still buried in the book.

“I want my brother back!” Genji was yelling now, “Whoever you are now, I don’t care. I want my brother! You took him away and I want him back!”

“Tell your friend he can sleep on my bed, if he wants to,” Hanzo said with an icy chill in his voice. He tucked his book under his arm, and snatched the throw blanket off his bed, making for the door.

“Brother of the year award! You earn it every time we speak!” Genji called after him, a bite in his voice that Hanzo hadn’t heard before.

Hanzo slammed the door. He felt an uncontrollable anger slinking through his vein like ice water. It wasn’t directed at Genji, though. This bitter contempt was for himself. He just couldn’t let himself be close to Genji. _Why_ couldn’t he? _Why_ did everything have to be awkward, and strained, and turn into a fight? He wished he could go back inside, apologize, talk it out. His pride would not allow it. Besides, Genji wouldn’t want to see him for a while after _that_.

His pace quickened through the darkened hall, and without realizing it he walked straight past the third floor student lounge. Hanzo thought back to what Aunt Azumi had said, that Genji would be willing to move on if he would let him. It was true, and though they had only been living together a week and a half, he could see the evidence of it. Genji introduced him to all his friends, put in the effort to spend time together, tried to act like things were okay. But Hanzo wondered, was it better to forget, or forgive?

Hanzo didn’t remember dropping his book and blanket, and he didn’t remember breaking into a sprint down the hall. Before he knew it though, he had arrived at the elevator. Without thinking he went down to the first floor, and started running again. He only stopped when he got to the commons. The commons were a large, wide open space set about a half meter into the floor, with massive windows looking out over the quad. It was filled with greenery, state of the art computers, and a few coffee and tea carts. Normally, it was a very impressive sight. But tonight, it was nothing more than a backdrop to the private performance being put on just for the moon and stars.

Hanzo stopped in his tracks, slightly out of breath. He leaned over the railing that separated the hall from the commons, his eyes were glued to the dancer. He was mesmerized by her movements, by the gentle classical music playing softly in the background, by her silhouette against the moonlight. He really didn’t mean to stare, but the woman’s dancing was impeccable. It was like her limbs were fluid, they moved with such grace and ease. Perfection - he could appreciate perfection. But then, a single flaw. She stumbled on a pirouette, and froze perfectly still for a moment. She went to the speaker, and picked up the phone connected to it, restarting the song. He watched her dance the routine again and again. Stumbling in the exact same spot every single time. And every time she stopped the song and restarted her dance.

“How will you learn the second half if you only practice the first?” Hanzo asked. He dropped down into the commons, walking towards her.

The woman whirled around, her long black ponytail like a whip.

“How long were you watching me?” she demanded. She spoke with a French accent. Hanzo remembered his father’s dealings with the French; he had never liked any of them very much.

“I saw the last four attempts,” he said, “I think your center of gravity is too far forward.”

She scoffed, “What do you know?”

“Perhaps more than you,” Hanzo said.

The woman sputtered, “I seriously doubt that. Who do you think you are, anyway? Do _not_ tell me what to do.”

“I think I’m right, and I think you are afraid that you don’t know everything,” Hanzo said.

“You know nothing!” she spat back.

“You underestimate me,” Hanzo said.

“You do it then, if you’re so amazing,” she said.

“No,” Hanzo said, “I have nothing to prove.”

The woman laughed bitterly, “Because you know you can’t, because you are full of _shit_ ,” she taunted

So Hanzo scowled, and assumed her former posture. He performed the pirouette perfectly, and then gave a little bow.

“How did you do that?” the woman’s eyes were wide, fury and awe conflicting.

“Back straighter, weight shifted back,” he replied, “You try.”

“ _Non_ ,” she shook her head, “I would have thought of that.”

Hanzo shrugged, “Humour me.”

And to his surprise, she did. She didn’t look at all happy about it, but she restarted the song once more. Hanzo moved closer, carefully observing with his arms crossed over his chest. This time, she kept her back straighter, and her weight shifted slightly back. Hanzo’s lip quirked upwards as she finished the routine.

“Told you,” he said.

“You must be a dancer,” she said.

Hanzo shook his head, “Martial arts and gymnastics”

“Ah,” she replied. She unplugged her phone from the speaker, and sat down at one of the tables in front of The Java Bean - arguably the worst of the coffee carts. She gestured for him to do the same.

“It seems late for a dance practice,” Hanzo commented.

“Seems late to be picking fights with strangers,” the woman countered.

“Fair enough,” Hanzo said.

“Why _are_ you out so late?” she asked after a few moments of silence. Her voice dripped with mistrust.

He didn’t answer for almost a minute. The woman’s eyes never left his.

“I killed my brother, and now we are roommates,” Hanzo said finally. Though she did seem vaguely familiar, he didn’t know the woman, and she didn't know him. Why not tell the truth? “And you?” he asked.

“I killed my boyfriend, and he’s still dead,” She answered, looking him straight in the eye. Hanzo hadn’t been expecting that.

“Hanzo Shimada,” he said, extending his hand.

“Amelie Lacroix,” and she took it.

 

-

 

“You like parties?” Sombra asked.

“No,” Satya replied. She was hunched over some sort of building plan, or city layout, or machine plan, one of the probably ten million things she was famous for, anyway.

“Not even a little bit?” Sombra said. She was sitting upside down in her spinny desk chair, using her hands to twirl herself around.

“Too much noise, too many people,” Satya said.

“So you won’t come to my party?” Sombra pouted.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“Well…”

“Really?”

“Nope,” Satya turned, a sly smile on her face.

“Meanie,” Sombra said, sticking her tongue out.

“Why would you want me there, anyway?” Satya asked, “I thought you invited friends to parties.”

“I invite everyone to parties,” Sombra said with a dismissive wave, “Besides. We _are_ friends!”

“Are we?” Satya asked.

“Of course!” Sombra said. The affection she had felt upon meeting Satya had only grown stronger over that first week or so that they’d lived together. Her smile - whenever she could coax one out of her - sent Sombra reeling, and the habits that some might consider odd only endeared her further. Sombra was terrified though, afraid of her own feelings and the vulnerable position they put her in, as well as the possibility that Satya didn’t like her. She could be impossible to read at times, even for Sombra, who prided herself on her manipulation tactics and people skills. Teasing and flirting were just fun ways to get people to pay attention to her. She had no clue what to do with _real_ feelings.

Satya was quiet for a moment, sitting perfectly still. Sombra heard her take a deep breath, her slender shoulders rising and falling.

“Will there be many people?” she asked.

“Nah,” Sombra replied, “Just a few friends, drinking and listening to music. Maybe play some video games or something. It’ll be pretty low-key. And if it’s too much, there’s no pressure to stay, I promise.”

Satya seemed relieved at that, and after a moment more of deliberation said, “I’ll give it a try, I suppose.”

Sombra grinned, “Yes! Ah, Satya, we’re going to have so much fun!”

Satya smiled back, “If you say so.”

“Oh, I definitely do,” she said.

Sombra spun herself around again, closing her eyes for maximum effect. She spun again and again until her head started to hurt. Sombra pulled herself upright with a groan, watching as the world spun and righted itself. Satya put her pencil back into the jar on her desk. She folded up her paper and got up from her chair, stretching her arms way up over her head. Sombra didn’t realize she was staring until Satya turned away with darkened cheeks.

Sombra cleared her throat, “I think I’m gonna go bug Jesse,” she declared.

“Alright, see you later,” Satya said, “Shut the door on your way out, please.”

“You got it,” Sombra said.

Sombra and Jesse had met in Gabe’s Spanish Lit class, where they’d each tried their hardest to be the best at pissing him off. Their eyes had met across the room while Sombra was telling Gabe - in Spanish - that she didn’t know what language he was speaking, and the connection was almost instantaneous. From then on, they bickered like brother and sister but probably would have died for each other. As far as she knew, Sombra was an only child, though the disappearance of her parents made that impossible to know for sure. She had often imagined hypothetical siblings when she was a kid, but none of them could ever measure up to Jesse.

“I don’t know what to do, Jesse,” Sombra complained, “I want her to like me so _bad_.”

The two lounged on the bed, Jesse sitting cross legged against the wall, and Sombra laying down with her legs in his lap. Jesse had already managed to make a complete mess of his room in the less than two weeks since the start of the semester, but Sombra didn’t mind. It was clean mess - books and bags and clean laundry that he hadn’t gotten around to putting away yet.

“Aw, who doesn’t like ya, Sombra?” Jesse said. He put his hand on her shin, giving it a little pat.

“Law enforcement, mostly,” Sombra replied.

“Is she a cop?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Sombra said.

“Then ya got nothin’ to worry about,” Jesse grinned.

“Well, I’m not so sure about that! In case you hadn’t noticed, Jesse, I’m sort of an obnoxious pain in the ass,” Sombra said.

“I had noticed, actually,” Jesse teased, “And I still like ya fine. Just, y’know, be yourself and all that bull.”

“Incredibly helpful, as always,” Sombra said. She dug her heel into his leg.

“I live to serve,” Jesse drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Anyway,” Sombra said, “How’s Señor Short, Handsome, and Moody?”

“Shuddup,” Jesse said, going red in the face. He fought against the smile that slowly crept across his face.

“Awww, Jesse’s got a crush!” Sombra teased. She sat up and poked his cheek, “Jesse and Hanzo, _sentados en un árbol_!”

“Stop it!” Jesse batted her hand away, shoving her back.

“Don’t deny it, _tonto_ , you can’t hide anything from Sombra,” she laughed.

“Referring to yourself in the third person now, huh? That’ll make Satya like ya for sure,” Jesse said in monotone.

“Shut up,” Sombra blushed, “We’re talking about you now, remember?”

“Whatever,” Jesse said, “Not like there’s much to talk about. Like you said, _moody_. I don’t like that in a guy.”

“Ok, whatever Angel fanboy 69,” Sombra scoffed.

“You promised not to bring that up!” Jesse's face went even redder, the blush creeping back to his ears and down his neck.

“You can deactivate your MySpace all you want, screenshots are forever,” she smirked.

Jesse looked like was about to say something, but he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“It’s open!” Sombra hollered.

“You can’t invite people into _my_ dorm, Sombra,” Jesse said.

“Can, will, and did,” she stuck her tongue out.

The door opened, and Angela walked in.

“Have either of you seen Fareeha?” she asked.

“Thought if anyone would know, it’d be you. Aren’t you two like, joined at the hip or something?” Sombra said.

Angela opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it, apparently thinking better of it. Sombra smiled.

“Actually, yes. But I seem to have lost her, and she’s not picking up her phone,” Angela said, “It’s getting pretty late, she doesn’t usually stay out.”

Jesse shrugged, “Haven’t seen her, sorry Angie.”

“Maybe she’s off, you know,” Sombra waggled her eyebrows, bringing her first two fingers to her lips and flicking her tongue between them.

Angela scowled, “Don’t be crass.”

“Hey,” Sombra shrugged. She leaned forward, “Could be true. Would you be upset if it was?”

“Of course not,” Angela said, shaking her head, “Why would I be?”

“Just a hunch,” Sombra gave her a sly smile and leaned back again. She was truly amazed by herself sometimes. She knew people's business before they even did. No wonder A had taken such an interest in her.

“Well, it’s wrong. Seems like you’re losing your touch, Sombra,” Angela raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she replied.

Angela turned her attention back to Jesse, “If you hear from her, let me know.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jesse said.

“Thank you,” Angela said. She pulled the door closed behind her, casting a distrustful look in Sombra’s direction.

“What was that about?” Jesse asked after she’d left.

“Like I said, just a hunch I have,” Sombra said, “They’d be cute together, don’t you think?”

“I guess, but don’t see it happenin’,” Jesse scratched his head, “Angie’s straigher’n a ruler on adderall.”

“If you insist,” Sombra said. She raised an eyebrow, studying her perfect manicure.

Jesse stared at her for a moment in silence.

“I hate when you play matchmaker,” he said finally.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Sombra said with a sly grin. But of course, meddling was the name of her game, and so the plan was already forming in her head.

 

-

 

Angela was fast asleep by the time Fareeha came in. She lay fully dressed on top of the covers of her bed, cell phone clutched to her chest. Fareeha came in around one thirty am, and crept through the room on light feet quieter than a mouse. Despite her efforts though, the sound of the door shutting made Angela’s eyes flutter open. She saw Fareeha’s outline in the dark room and gave a little smile. Angela stretched, relishing the feeling of her shoulders twisting and loosening and her spine popping. Her bed was so comfortable, and now that Fareeha was home safe, she could sleep so much easier.

“Waiting for an important call?” Fareeha asked, a smirk on her face.

“Waiting for you,” Angela replied with a yawn. She kicked off her shoes and rolled over onto her stomach.

“You shouldn’t have waited up, _Malak_ , you need your sleep,” Fareeha said. She tugged Angela’s yellow throw out from under her legs, and unfolded it.

“You didn’t say where you were going. I wanted to make sure you got in safe,” Angela muttered. She could feel the irresistible pull of unconsciousness dragging her back under, “Wanted to be up in case you called for help.”

Fareeha tucked the blanket around Angela, “You’re worse than my mother, you worry over me so much,” she laughed, “I was in a movie theatre, my phone was turned off.”

“You hate the cinema,” Angela said, her brow furrowing.

“This is true, but I don’t hate when pretty girls ask me on impromptu dates,” Fareeha said.

“Did you have a good time? Are you going to see her again?” Angela asked, her eyes started to flutter shut again.

“I don’t think so,” Fareeha said.

“Why?” Angela asked.

“She was nice,” Fareeha said, “But I’ve got my heart set on somebody else.”

Angela might have cooed, or asked who Fareeha was after, but she had already fallen asleep again.

The next morning at breakfast, Fareeha regaled the group with the details of her date. Angela had trouble focusing on what she said. From what she gathered though, the girl had been perfectly lovely, but very boring.

“She was so pretty,” Fareeha sighed, “such a shame she had no personality.”

Lucio patted her shoulder, “Next one’ll be a winner, just wait.”

“Yes,” Sombra said, “I’m positive the next one will be a much better fit,” she had a strange smile on her face.

Fareeha glared at Sombra, “Don’t even try it.”

Sombra’s eyes widened, “Don’t try what?” she said innocently, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Fareeha rolled her eyes, “I could snap you in half, Sombra. Stay out of my love life.”

It was true, Angela thought. Fareeha was in excellent shape and Sombra was very small. She realized then that Sombra was looking very pointedly at her, and a second later realized that she had been staring at Fareeha. She dropped her gaze, and went back to her breakfast of tea and  grapefruit.

“Anyway,” Sombra said, still not looking away from Angela, “What did everyone else do last night?”

Both of the Shimadas suddenly became very interested in the floor. They normally sat across from each other, but today Hanzo was sat several feet down from Genji. Angela didn’t know what exactly had happened between the brothers - in fact she hadn’t even known Genji _had_ a brother until Hanzo introduced himself as a Shimada. Clearly neither of them liked to talk about it. Whatever it was though, it must have been bad.

“I almost didn’t cry when Hana beat me at Mario Kart,” Lena said with a grin, shaking Angela out of her thoughts.

“Proud of you, babe,” Emily kissed her cheek.

“ _I_ still can’t believe you were dumb enough to challenge her,” Lucio said, “Hana’s been the school champion since forever.” Hana looked smug.

Someone who hadn’t spoken, or even acknowledged that the others were there yet that morning spoke up then. Thinking back, Angela didn’t think she’d ever even heard the voice of the woman sitting at the far end of the table.

“I think Hanzo could take you.”

The table went quiet at the sound of her voice.

“What was that, Amelie?” Lena said, looking down the table at her. Disbelief was written all over her face.

“I’ve never met such a competitive perfectionist _branleur_. I bet he could beat her,” Amelie said, her lips were slightly upturned in something almost like a smile, but she refused to turn to look at any of them.

Hanzo looked like a deer caught in headlights.

Genji looked at Hanzo for the first time that morning, and burst out laughing.

“You know what,” Genji said, “She is absolutely right. I think he is too stubborn to lose!”

Hana scowled, “Bullshit! I don’t think he’s ever even touched a game controller in his life! I would crush him!”

“Now just wait a second,” Hanzo said. His face was growing redder, and Angela couldn’t quite tell if it was due to anger or embarrassment. Her impression was that his constant state was a mixture of the two.

“I’d pay good money to see that one,” Jesse grinned.

“Oh, really?” Sombra said, suddenly interested again, “How about a little betting circle, then?”

Professor Reyes, who happened to be walking by with his breakfast at that exact moment, smacked her in head.

“That’s against school policy,” he said.

Sombra whirled around with alarming speed and punched his leg. Professor Reyes didn’t even flinch.

“So is hitting students!” she said, spinning back around in her seat, “Who’s in?”

Genji stuck his hand up, “I’ve got twenty on Hanzo!”

And with that, the betting was on. Angela stayed out of it, though she did encourage Fareeha to put her money on Hana. As much as Sombra tended to piss her off, she had to admit that things were a lot more interesting with her around. By the time eight o’clock rolled around and the first classes started, Sombra had taken everybody’s money and written a comprehensive ledger detailing exactly who would be owed what in the event of either outcome. All the while, Hanzo sat sputtering and bright red, saying that he would _not_ be participating, and Genji, _please_ make this stop. Genji looked very smug about the whole thing, and Hana had already left to get in an hour or two of practice before class. Not that she needed it.

It had been decided that the tournament would take place at Sombra’s party on Friday. Angela hadn’t been planning on attending, but she was curious to see the outcome. Besides, she deserved a little fun.

With that in mind, she slipped Sombra a ten dollar bill as she left the dining hall.

“On Hana, please,” she whispered.

“ _Suena bien,_ ” Sombra said, “I’ll add you to the ledger.”

 Angela thanked her, and then left, arriving to her eight thirty lab twenty minutes early as always. The look Sombra had given her when she’d caught her staring at Fareeha started to bother her once she was alone with her thoughts. What was she trying to imply? She wondered, as she set up her equipment methodically, if Sombra thought she was gay. Angela certainly wouldn’t be offended if she did, but it just wasn’t true. She wasn’t gay, and she definitely didn’t feel that way about Fareeha like she seemed to think. She’d never dated much - she preferred to focus on school - but when she did they had always been men, though the relationships hadn’t lasted long.

 Angela waved hello to her professor as she entered the laboratory, and pulled out her notes. She would date when she found the right person, and when she wasn’t so busy. Not dating didn’t mean gay. Maybe she should talk to Sombra about it, set the record straight. She wasn’t gay. She wasn’t gay. She wasn’t gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Here's some extra stuff about it:
> 
> \- Writing the fight between Genji and Hanzo was b r u t a l I definitely cried a little  
> \- I really have no idea what to name Genji's lizard so if you have suggestions please comment them or hit up my tumblr  
> \- I wasn't originally planning on including Amelie in this fic at all beyond a cameo, but then I got inspired by her dance emote so now we get Bad Coping Mechanism Buddies  
> \- I love sibling relationship Jesse and Sombra So Much  
> \- My Jesse is definitely Mexican-American  
> \- Sentados en un árbol = sitting in a tree  
> \- Tonto = fool  
> \- "Angel fanboy 69" is a reference to the character Angel from the t.v. show Buffy The Vampire Slayer. Angel is a moody, broody vampire with a soul.  
> \- I know -6 about video games which is why the tournament is gonna be Mario Kart lmao  
> \- Branleur = wanker  
> \- Suena bien = sounds good  
> \- Does Angela is Gay? find out next week.  
> \- It literally just occurred to me while I was formatting that I'm probably writing this to cope with my own fears about starting college soon. rip me.


	4. September 3: The Final September pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Video games are played, Sombra has Real People Feelings(tm), Angela and Genji go swimming, and Amelie tries her best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey hey hey what's up it's three in the morning where I am right now so I'm only 80% sure I got all the typos LMAO 
> 
> Anyway I wanted to get this update out before I went to bed because I'm gonna be out all day tomorrow (i guess that's today now rip) so I won't have time. Also because the next update is prob gonna be late because the next two weeks of my life are gonna be exams and then prom and then grad!! 
> 
> Like I said it's almost 3am rn and I'm listening to the clash really loud and i'm so tired. Enjoy.

The day of the party dawned to find that an unseasonably heavy blanket of mist had settled over the campus. The unusual weather was accompanied by an electric mood among the students. The news that someone was taking on Hana in Mario Kart - and according to some, actually stood a chance -  had spread like wildfire around the school, and the guest list of the party had grown accordingly. For this reason, Sombra had made the decision to move the affair from her dorm to the third floor student lounge. It was much bigger, the tv was nicer, and she wouldn’t have to worry about people touching her stuff. As soon as the last class was over that Friday, Sombra dragged Satya and Lucio to the lounge to help set up. Lucio was more than happy to help. Satya was less enthusiastic. 

“Satya, you mind giving me a hand with this?” Lucio asked. His arms were full of cables and speakers that he had brought in from his dorm room. 

“I’m busy,” Satya deadpanned. She opened a bag of potato chips and dumped them into a plastic bowl, “See?” she said, “I’m doing the snacks.” 

“I just need you to take a couple of these so I don’t drop them, it’ll be two seconds,” Lucio said. 

Satya picked up the chip bowl, “Hands are full,” she said. 

“Aren’t you gonna make her help?” Lucio looked over at Sombra, pleading. She could tell he was agitated.  

Sombra glanced over at Satya, who raised an eyebrow. 

“Nah,” Sombra said, “We’re fine.” 

Satya smiled, and Sombra plugged the wrong cord into the tv, which caused a loud static sound to burst forth. She yelped, and yanked it out immediately. Lucio cast a dirty look at Satya, which might have been the first dirty look he had ever given anyone in his life. Satya giggled, and took a seat in one of the armchairs by the window. Lucio made a noise of frustration, but went back to work. There was a tension between Satya and Lucio. Satya wasn’t normally so difficult, and Lucio wasn’t normally so easy to rile up. Sombra took note, and decided to put a pin in it to be looked into later.

A little while later, Jesse arrived with a sleeve of red solo cups and a paper liquor store bag.

“Howdy,” he said. He held up a bottle of amber liquid, “Fun’s here.”

“Actually, I think _fun_ is right behind you,” Sombra laughed. Jesse turned back to the door.  

Genji stood at the threshold of the room with the _most_ shit-eating grin imaginable on his face, and was tugging his unwilling brother behind him. Hanzo looked like he was genuinely considering chewing his own arm off as a means of escape.  

Jesse grinned, and went over to the two. He slapped Hanzo on the back. 

“Hey now, no need to be nervous. We all go up against Hana at one point or another, just gotta have fun with it,” he said. Hanzo nodded stiffly. 

“I still think he could beat her,” Genji said, practically vibrating with excitement, “I gave him a few lessons earlier - he was a natural.” 

“See?” Jesse said, his hand still on Hanzo’s back, “Ya got nothin’ to worry about.”

“Are you sure about that, Jesse?” Hana’s voice rang out from the doorway, just behind Genji and Hanzo. The brothers moved out of the way, turning to face her.

Hana stood in a power stance, arms crossed and legs at shoulder width. She was wearing her own custom merch jacket for her streaming channel, and her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail. She had an entourage - an honest to god _entourage_ behind her. Lena, Emily, Mei, Jamie, and Zenyatta stood with her. Although, Zenyatta looked less like he was there to support Hana, and more like he had just happened to wander in with them. 

The collective thought that ran through almost everyone’s minds at that moment was some variation of _Oh jesus fucking christ_. Hanzo buried his face in his hands.  

“Statement retracted. Was nice knowin’ ya, Han,” Jesse said. 

Hana walked over to the couch and sat down on the left, Lucio taking the spot next to her. Genji shoved Hanzo onto the couch, and Jesse claimed his right hand spot, with Genji leaning on the sofa behind them. The two played a couple games of single player to warm up as they waited for everyone else to show up. As Hana watched Hanzo play, she actually started to look _nervous_ , which was not something anyone was used to, especially Hana herself. 

As more people arrived, they gathered around the couch. Around eight, Sombra got up and stood in front of the tv. 

“Alright, alright, I think we’re ready to get started,” she said, “We’ve got a few rules first, though.” 

Hana groaned, “Let’s just get on with this already!”

Sombra scowled, “Cool it,  _ petardo _ , people have money on this, gotta make it fair.”

Hana rolled her eyes, but gestured for Sombra to go on.

“Thank you. The match is best two out of three, with the winner of the previous round getting to pick the map for the next round. I’ll choose the first map.”  

The two selected their characters. Hana went for Princess Peach, Hanzo handed his controller to Genji, who gleefully put Waluigi behind the wheel. And then Amelie walked in, and the room fell silent.  

“Amelie, love! We were starting to think you weren’t coming!” Lena said, offering a warm smile. Amelie didn’t even look in her direction.

Hanzo jabbed his finger at her, his eyes narrowing in anger, “You!” he said. All eyes were on Amelie. She smiled, and sauntered over to the couch, seating herself right in between Hanzo and Hana.  

“Carry on,” she said, looking incredibly smug. 

No one moved, they all just stared at her. Likely due to the fact that no one aside from Lena had ever seen her in any sort of social setting, let alone looking so emotive. 

Amelie rolled her eyes, “I said carry on! I didn’t come to be stared at, I came to see  _ la reine _ dethroned!”

That seemed to snap everyone out of their collective stupor. A tense atmosphere settled over the room, accented by a clap of thunder outside. Satya, still in her arm chair away from the gaggle of people at the couch, turned to the window. The rain had picked up, pounding against the glass panes in sheets, still barely audible over the music, the game, and the chatter.

“Uh, alright,” Sombra said, “If everybody’s ready, let’s get this party started!”

And with that, the game began.

The first round saw Hanzo and Hana neck and neck through the first lap. After a few dirty moves on Hanzo’s part though, he managed to just barely pull ahead. Hana started to worry. She threw shell after shell at him, but he managed to dodge out of the way of every single one, using other cars as shields. 

“He’s gonna do it!” Lena shouted.

“Yes! Hanzo!” Genji grinned. 

“No!” Hana made a noise of frustration as the finish line came into sight.

Hanzo was first across the finish line by a car length. As the word “winner” flashed across his half of the screen, he smiled to himself.

“Never second best,” he muttered. Unwilling as he had been to participate initially, he found that winning the stupid video game brought him a sense of pride.

“I think you mean begginers luck!” Hana said, scowling. 

“We shall see,” Hanzo said. 

“What’d I tell ya?” Jesse said as he threw his arm around Hanzo, “Nothin’ to worry about.”

Hanzo smiled even wider, feeling the high of winning and electric atmosphere swirl around in his head. He leaned into Jesse, just enough to let him know that the touch was ok - that it was appreciated. 

There was a flash from the window, and another clap of thunder. Satya grew uneasy. The tournament was definitely entertaining, and Sombra had even coaxed her into betting - five dollars on Hanzo. She didn’t like storms, though. And the yelling, and music - it was starting to grate on her nerves. She got up from her chair and walked over to where Sombra sat cross legged on the floor next to the couch.

“I’m leaving,” Satya whispered into Sombra’s ear, “This is fun, but -”

“I get it,” Sombra said, “Thank you for coming, I’ll let you know who wins,” She grabbed Satya’s hand and gave it a little squeeze. Satya smiled, and excused herself from the room, waving a quick goodbye. Sombra turned her attention back to the squabbling that was happening on the couch.

“Don’t get too high on yourself yet,” Amelie said, “You still have two more rounds to play.”

“That’s right,” Sombra said, “Hanzo, pick your map. 

Hanzo looked up to Genji, who stood behind the couch smiling down at him, pure joy in his eyes.

“Which one?” he asked.

“Pick the gold mine,” Genji said, pointing at the screen.

And with that, round two had begun. Hanzo took on a much more aggressive play style, which turned out to be his downfall. He was so busy trying to disadvantage Hana that he left himself wide open to her volley of shells. He grew frustrated, and tried to go back to his more defensive stance. The damage was already done though, and when he finally slid over the finish line, he was in fourth place.

“Damn!” he exclaimed. He looked nervously up at Genji, who was glaring at Hana.

“You  _ will _ win this,” he said, “I believe in you.”

Hearing that, Hanzo felt his resolve grow stronger. He would make his little brother proud. 

Hana looked oh-so-satisfied with herself, as her side of the couch blew up with congratulations. 

“Fuck  _ yes,  _ Hana! I knew you could do it!” Fareeha said. Angela, standing at her side, clapped.

“Thanks,” Hana said, “I’m not gonna let some noob steal my title.”

Amelie rolled her eyes, “I cannot you believe you just said that.”

Hana stuck her tongue out. There was another crack of thunder outside, and the lights dimmed for just a second. Sombra looked nervous.

“Ok, ok, let’s get this show on the road before we lose power,” Sombra paused, “Pun one hundred percent intended.”

The room was filled with groans.

“Anyways! Hana, pick your map,” Sombra grinned. 

She looked contemplative for a moment, and then a slow, sinister smile crept across Hana’s face, “I think you know what I want.” 

A hush fell over the room, and Sombra’s eyes widened.

“You don’t mean-”

“I do,” Hana said.

“You people take this way too seriously,” Hanzo said.

“Shut up, Hanzo,” Genji said. 

“Rainbow Road,” Hana whispered.

“Rest in fuckin’ peace, Han,” Jesse said, his voice low and his eyes wide.

Hanzo sighed. They were all out of their damn minds, how bad could it be? “Let’s just get on with it,” he said.

And the third round was on. The tension in the room was palpable as the tiebreaker race began. It didn’t take Hanzo long to discover why Rainbow Road had the reputation it did. It took him a while to stop falling off the track, but lucky for him Hana seemed to have difficulty with the same stretch as him. They stayed in a tie, each replacing the other in first place every few seconds. Sombra slowly inched closer to the tv, engrossed by the action. Angela and Fareeha - who were standing behind Hana - grasped each other’s hands without thinking. Even Amelie leaned forward on the couch. 

With the end of the first lap, Hanzo had crept up to take the lead over Hana by a car length. 

“Hana, come on!” Lucio said. He pulled his phone out and switched the music over to something of a victorious theme, and Hana grinned.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hana said, “Turn it  _ up! _ ”

Hanzo scowled, barely holding onto his lead. The finish line on the last lap was coming up quickly in front of them. Hana smashed through an item box, and gasped. 

It was a blue shell.

There was glee in Hana’s eyes, and fear in Hanzo’s as she hurled it at him. 

“No!” he said.

“Yes!” Hana yelled.

And then, just as the warning sign popped up on Hanzo’s side of the screen, the television shut off and the room went black with one massive clap of thunder. It was silent for a moment, and then the yelling started.

“I won! That was my win!” Hana said, “You all saw that, that was mine!”

“Bullshit!” Amelie said. She rattled off a few insults in French.

“Now hold on,” Jesse said, “You saw him dodgin’ those shells earlier, he coulda made it!”

“You can’t dodge a blue shell, Jesse!” Fareeha said.

The room was totally dark, save for the light coming in from the floodlights in the hall. Everyone was half drunk, and yelling, and disoriented. Jesse leaned into Hanzo, who sat stiffly with crossed arms. Sombra thought to herself that it was probably good Satya left when she did. The flashing lightning in the window, all the yelling - it would have been a nightmare. Angela clung to Fareeha’s arm. 

After a few more minutes of yelling, silence settled over the room again. 

Zenyatta, who had stayed mostly quiet through the whole ordeal, spoke up then 

“Perhaps it’s better this way,” he said, “If no one wins, no one has to loose, and the balance remains.”

“Shut up, hippy,” Amelie hissed.

“No, wait,” Genji said, holding up a finger, “let the hippy speak.”

“Had Hana’s reign ended, her entire sense of identity may have shattered,” Zenyatta said, “Not to mention our own social structure.”

“C’mon, Zen. S’just a game,” Jesse said, “I don’t think it’s quite that deep.”

“Isn’t it, though?” Zenyatta said. He turned to Hana, “Had Hana upheld her title… well, I’ll just say that from the little I know of Hanzo, he certainly seems like the self-destructive type. Especially had he disappointed Genji.”

“Damn,” Lucio said, “Get psychoanalyzed.”

Zenyatta shrugged, and Hanzo was furious at how right he was.

“So no rematch?” Hana said, “But I need to crush him!”

Hanzo barked out a laugh, “Like you could!”

“See, you both have this compulsive need to win,” Genji said, “This was such a bad idea. You’re an immovable object versus an unstoppable force.”

“So that’s it?” Sombra said, “We’re just done.”

“I think for the sake of everyone’s mental health; yes,” Angela said.

 

-

 

Sombra sat alone in the dark student lounge. The only sounds were her own breathing, and the pouring rain outside. The air felt like a vacuum without the white noise of vents and lights and all the other things that made the school feel alive. Sombra couldn’t even hear students in the halls. Understandable, really. Everyone had retreated to their dorms ages ago. Sombra closed her eyes, but with the door shut it was so dark that it made no difference. She could see the orphanage in her mind with every flash of lightning. She felt that familiar fear that the next strike would be the one to set the house aflame, that the rain would become torrential and flood the streets, that the wind would blow trees and power poles into the house and crush them all. She could practically feel the hot breath of scared kids huddled around her, making her claustrophobic. 

“ _ Cuidar de los niños, Sombra, sea fuerte para ellos.” _

There was a clap of thunder, and Sombra flinched. She wished for an internet connection, above all else. A distraction would be good. She supposed she could have gone hunting for cell service, but she felt like she was glued to the couch, paralyzed by fear. She hated power outages. Hated them, hated them,  _ hated _ them. Sombra closed her eyes again. She pushed her palms into her eyelids until she saw stars, trying to scrub the images of her childhood from her head. She took a few deep breaths, and remembered the game she sometimes would play with the kids when the power went out. Close your eyes and count to one hundred, and when you open them the lights will be back. If you peek, you have to start over.

_ One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. _

The thunder clapped again, and Sombra could see the flash of lightning even through her eyelids.

_ Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty.  _

The rain pounded harder still, the wind screaming and tossing twigs against the window. Sombra drew her knees into her chest.

_ Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four - _

Sombra heard the door creak. Her eyes flashed open, and she saw the silhouette of a woman against the floodlights in the hall. It took her a few seconds to recognize her. 

“Satya? What are you doing here?” Sombra asked, not wanting to look at her. She started to panic. She couldn’t let  _ anyone _ see her like this. She felt far too vulnerable.

“I don’t know,” Satya said, “Are you okay?”

“Of course!” Sombra said easily, “All is good,  _ amiga _ ! Are  _ you _ ok?” 

“I-” Satya paused, and looked at the floor, “I didn’t want to be alone. I don’t like thunder.”

“Oh,” Sombra said.

“Are you staying here tonight?”

Sombra thought about moving, and how impossible it felt.

“I think so.”

“Would you let me stay here with you?” Satya asked.

“Sure,” Sombra said. 

Satya reached over and took Sombra’s hand. She rubbed little circles on her palm until she started to relax. It tickled, but the contact was nice. Sombra put her head down, resting her forehead on her knees. 

“Headphones help if you have them,” Satya whispered, “And you should lay down.”

Sombra didn’t ever want to let go of Satya’s hand. The warm pressure made her feel better. She leaned over, and rested her head on her shoulder. Satya went stiff at the touch, but after a few moments, she relaxed, and even leaned into Sombra.

“Thank you,” Sombra whispered. She closed her eyes again, but this time it was not out of fear. She let the sound of the rain and Satya’s steady heartbeat lull her to sleep. 

When Sombra awoke the next morning, it was still dark. She stared up at the ceiling, unsure of where she was for a few moments. She recalled the events of the previous night in order, trying to remember where she’d ended up. Sombra’d had a few, so the memories were foggy, but she eventually decided that she must have fallen asleep in the student lounge. Then she heard the hum of air vents, and turned to see that there was light coming in under the door. Not flood lights,  _ real _ lights. She smiled, and her eyes closed again. It was far too early to be awake, and now that the power was back, she could sleep so much easier. 

Sombra tried to turn over, but there was a warm weight on her chest pinning her down. She opened her eyes. _Oh._ Satya was laying on top of her, face nestled into her chest and arms wrapped around her. Sombra felt a crick in her neck and butterflies in her stomach. She suddenly felt paranoid, like the tiniest movement would wake her and break the spell. She didn’t want it to end. If it was possible, she might have frozen the moment and just lived there forever. The affection felt so good Sombra thought she might cry  

This was not a Satya that Sombra was used to seeing. She didn’t look at all graceful or poised, her face was all smushed and her normally perfect hair stuck out at all sorts of fun angles. Sombra stifled a giggle. She was sure she could see a few drool spots on her cheek. Still though, Sombra thought she was the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen. An image flashed through her head of Satya and her sitting together at a kitchen table drinking coffee, the Mexican sunrise glinting off Satya’s hair. Sombra pushed that image out of her head. It was a dangerous thought. She wasn’t cut out for domesticity, and love was weakness anyway. With the gentlest of hands, Sombra reached down to brush a piece of hair from Satya’s face, tucking it behind her ear. 

The light touch was enough to wake Satya. 

Sombra smiled at her, “Morning, sleepyhead,” she spoke softly, hoping that if she was quiet enough the moment could be preserved a little longer.

Satya smiled back, her eyes droopy with sleep. Then she seemed to realize where she was. Her face went red and she pushed herself up off of Sombra, retreating as fast as she could to the opposite side of the couch. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “That was inappropriate, I should have realized.”

“Hey, no worries. I actually slept pretty well, all things considered” Sombra said, stretching, “How’d you sleep?”

“I - I slept well,” Satya admitted, looking embarrassed.

Sombra couldn’t tell whether she was being serious or not. She pouted.

“Good! I always thought my tits would make a great pillow,” she joked.

Satya went a few shades redder, “I’m going to go get dressed,” she said.

As she got up to leave, Sombra grabbed her hand.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” she said, cursing herself, “Thank you. For last night.”

“Think nothing of it,” Satya said. She seemed nervous, but despite that a hint of a smile ghosted across her face. 

Satya turned away, pulling her hand from Sombra’s and leaving without looking back. Sombra decided to stay in lounge on the couch a little longer. The only place she had to go was the dorm, and that was where Satya was headed. She could tell she needed a little alone time. 

According to her phone, it was still only five thirty in the morning, which meant she’d gotten a whopping four hours of sleep. She felt it, too. Her eyes were heavy and full of sand, and her whole body was sore with exhaustion. The upside was that it was Saturday, which meant no classes, which meant she could sleep all day if she wanted. Of course, she had better things to do on Saturdays, but it felt good to know that the option was there.

Sombra looked around the room - the lounge was an absolute mess. She reluctantly hauled herself up off the couch and walked over to the window. Though sunrise was still a ways off, the faintest trace of pale blue could be seen on the horizon. Sombra opened the window and inhaled deeply - letting the cold, fresh air clear her head. She grabbed a trash can and went to work cleaning. 

The work was monotonous, but it gave her time to think. Sombra felt like an absolute idiot for letting Satya see her in such a vulnerable position the night before. She felt even worse for making Satya uncomfortable. She didn’t know when to stop sometimes, and she hated that about herself. She wished she could just pull back and act like a normal human being. Sombra stuffed an empty bottle into the trashcan. And letting Satya see her terrified and trembling like that… Fears were not something she was supposed to have. She was  _ Sombra _ \- the woman, the myth, the legend. A shadow, literally. She knew everything about everyone, not the other way around. She felt stupid again when she realized how lucky she was that it  _ had _ been Satya, and not someone else. Anyone could have walked in on her, and anyone but Satya - and maybe Jesse - would have used it against her. It was a horrifying thought.

Sombra finished cleaning around quarter after six, and decided that she’d given Satya enough time. It didn’t matter though, because when she headed back to the room Satya was nowhere to be found. That was good, Sombra thought. No distractions. She didn’t even bother turning the light on, just sat down at her desk and booted up her computer. The oh-so-familiar hum and purplish glow that emanated from it made her feel at home, so much more secure. She smiled, and took a deep breath. 

Saturdays were dedicated to research on the one lead she had into the identity of A, her sponsor. When she had initially attempted to hack into the private messaging app they’d put on her computer, she’d managed to glimpse one single word before the firewalls went up and she was locked out. Sombra rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, and typed out a post on the latest deep-web forum she’d come across:

 

_ “TIME SENSITIVE: Cash reward for info on the LumériCo scandal” _

 

-

 

Saturday evening study sessions with Genji were a routine that Angela was more than happy to fall back into. Genji liked to be taught, and Angela liked to teach, and so even though they had no classes in common, they both went away feeling better about their respective material. It was mutually beneficial, and they liked to spend time together anyway. 

Angela’s fingers clacked away on the keyboard of her laptop. She read off the notes as she retyped them.

“Angela?” Genji cut her off suddenly. His arms were folded like a pillow beneath his head, resting on the table.

“Yes, Genji?” Angela replied, slightly peeved at having been interrupted.

“So, you know I love our study dates,” he started.

“Yes,” Angela said, “I do too.”

“I think I have a few ideas to improve them, though,” Genji said.

Angela raised her eyebrow, “Oh? And what did you have in mind?”

“Alright,” Genji said, “I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this, but hear me out. Just trust me on this one. Picture it: You and I studying outside on the beach, except we are not studying, we are having a picnic. And you wear a bikini.”

Angela blinked, and looked from her laptop to Genji, and back to her laptop, “Sure,” she decided after a moment, surprising both of them, “Let’s do it. No bikini though,” she wrinkled her nose.

Genji sat up straight, “Wait, really?”

Angela shrugged, “Why not? It’s a beautiful day.”

“I can’t believe that worked,” Genji said, his eyes wide.

She shrugged again, “We can study later.”

With that, Angela left to retrieve her favourite yellow throw blanket from her room while Genji went to find sandwiches. About fifteen minutes later, the two met back up on the front lawn of the campus. Together, they walked the short distance to the waterfront and set up their picnic.

It really was a beautiful day. The previous night’s storm had given way to clear blue skies and warm ocean air. The beach proper was crowded with people looking to squeeze the most out of the last few days of summer before the autumn chill set in. Older couples walked hand in hand across the sand, parents pulled their children away from tidepools, teenagers buried each other in the sand. Angela and Genji laid out their blanket in a more sheltered area, several meters back from the surf. 

Angela sat cross-legged and kicked off her shoes, and Genji laid back on the blanket with his backpack as a pillow. He tossed her a tuna salad sandwich - her favourite. The two ate in silence for some time, before Angela started in with a question.

“Can I ask you something?” she said.

Genji nodded, his mouth full of nutella and banana.

“It  _ is _ a little personal, so don’t feel like you have to answer,” Angela took a deep breath, “We’ve been friends a long time. Why did you never tell me you had a brother?”

Genji was silent, he chewed his sandwich slowly and stared up at the deep blue sky. He stayed that way for a while, so long in fact that Angela feared she had overstepped her boundaries. She felt her face heat up, and she looked away.

At last, he spoke.

“I didn’t tell you I had a brother because I did not think I did anymore,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“There was an accident when we were teenagers,” Genji said, never taking his eyes off whatever distant point in the sky had captured his attention, “It was bad, and it was his fault. I was badly hurt. I think he was too, in a different way. He was gone before I had even been put in the ambulance, and he didn’t come home. Our parents looked for him for weeks, but it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth. He sent just one letter, a one page note saying that he was safe, and to stop looking for him. I thought he would return eventually, I always held onto that hope. But then our mother died. I looked for him at the funeral, in all the dark corners and on all the rooftops. Behind trees, and gravestones, and pews. He was nowhere to be seen at his own mother’s funeral. After that, I knew it was over.”

Genji turned to look at Angela, “I was an only child,” he said.

Angela felt a horrible mixture of sadness and anger boil in her stomach. Staring at Genji, and the marks that covered his skin, she had a sick suspicion. Angela reached out and took his arm, tracing her fingers over the pinkish burn scars that adorned it. 

“Are these -” she started to ask.

“Yes,” Genji said, “Hanzo did this to me.”

“And you both went to the same school this entire time without knowing?” she asked.

Genji shrugged, “He is not a very social person.”

“I guess not,” Angela said.

A hush seemed to fall over the whole beach as Angela struggled to absorb what Genji had told her. She didn’t know whether she’d be able to look at Hanzo the same way ever again, knowing what he’d done to his own brother - how he’d torn his family apart. She simply could not comprehend the idea of someone willingly leaving their parents behind. Hers had been ripped away so violently, how could someone just turn away from theirs?

“I don’t think he wants me to forgive him,” Genji said, “he seems so intent on punishing himself in my honour. I just want my brother back.”

Angela squeezed his hand. Genji’s eyes were wet.

“Fuck,” he laughed, and wiped the tears away, “I am not  _ nearly _ high enough to talk about this.”

Genji pulled a joint out of his bag and lit up in a swift, well practiced motion. Angela watched his posture relax visibly as the smoke swirled around his body. It looked nice. Her pulse quickened as her hand reached out, not entirely with her permission.

“Can I try?”

“Really?” Genji said, raising an eyebrow.

Angela nodded, so Genji passed her the joint. Nervously, she placed it between her lips and sucked. It was like inhaling fire. Her chest immediately started to burn, and she coughed violently.

Genji laughed, and took it back.

“Asshole,” Angela managed to choke out  between coughs, “don’t laugh at me, I’ve never done this.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” Genji said, still smiling. As the coughing and pain subsided, Angela started to feel a fog settle over her mind. She felt calm, and loose, and untouchable.

“Oh,” she said, “Oh, It doesn’t hurt anymore. I think I like this.”

“I am surprised you approve at all,” Genji said.

Angela raised her shoulders all the way up to her ears, and then let them fall. It felt weird. She did it a few more times.

“You have chronic pain,” she said, “Marijuana is a pain reliever.”

“You don’t, though,” Genji said.

“Well,” Angela shrugged a few more times, “Maybe I have different pain,” she held her hand out, and Genji passed her the joint again. She took another drag, and this time it didn’t hurt so much. She still coughed, though.

Genji laughed again, and took the joint back. Angela laid down, resting her head on Genji’s stomach. Genji threaded his other hand through her hair until she batted him away.

“Don’t touch me,” she said.

“You’re laying on me,” he countered.

Angela started to giggle. She found that once she had started, she couldn’t stop. She laughed and laughed and eventually Genji joined in. When they were finally able to stop, they passed the joint back and forth a few more times. 

“I like this,” Angela decided, “We should always do this instead of studying.”

“I think I am a bad influence on you,” Genji said.

“ _ I _ think you should have brought more sandwiches,” Angela said.

Genji sighed, “You have never been more right than you are right now.”

“I am always right, Genji. You know this,” Angela said.

“I know,” Genji said, “I know, I know, I know. Smarty-pants Angela.”

Angela wrinkled her nose, “Don’t call me that.”

“Smarty-pants Angela!” Genji yelled.

She reached up and smacked Genji’s face, “Stop!”

“Well, it’s true!” Genji laughed.

Angela sighed, “I don’t  _ feel _ that smart,” she pouted.

“Are you sad?” Genji asked, “Did I make you sad?”

Angela shook her head, rolling it around on Genji’s stomach, “Nope,” she popped the P, “I think I made me sad.”

Genji looked out over the darkening sky, and then down at Angela’s pouting face. He hadn’t noticed how late it was getting. It had to be at least eight o'clock, though.

“Come on,” Genji said, “No sad allowed. I have an idea.” 

He nudged her head off of him, and pushed himself up into a standing position. Genji grabbed Angela’s hand, and pulled her up with him. 

Angela’s eye were wide, “Are we going swimming?” she asked.

Genji grinned, “Yes we are!”

“But I said no bikini!” Angela protested.

“No bikini necessary!” Genji said. He pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a toned stomach marred by more burn scars. Angela had seen them before of course, but they seemed angrier - more painful now that she knew of their origin.

“I am  _ not _ skinny dipping with you Genji,” Angela crossed her arms.

Genji took both her hands, “I would not ask you to, Angela. We’ll keep our underwear on, you can keep your shirt on if you want. Just come on, let loose! It’ll be fun!”

Angela tried to look contemplative for a moment, but quickly broke into a smile.

“Ok,” she said, “Let’s do it.”

She joined Genji in stripping down to her underwear. Angela almost definitely would have left her shirt on had she been sober, but the smoke swirling in her brain made her reckless. Her shirt went by the wayside, and she was glad she’d matched her panties to her bra.

Genji grinned, and grabbed Angela’s hand. The two of them ran down to the water, laughing and stumbling all the way. The water was cool enough that it stung Angela’s toes, but warm enough that it didn’t take her long to adjust. Genji ran out ahead of her and splashed. She shrieked, and retreated back to the warm, damp sand.

“None of that!” she said, waggling her finger.

“Ok,” Genji said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “I won’t splash you,” he started to move towards Angela, hands outstretched 

“Oh no!” Angela shook her head, “Genji, don’t you dare!”

Genji grinned, and caught her in a tackle. Angela shouted, half laughing, as he threw her over his shoulder and carried her further out into the ocean.

“Put me down!” she yelled, pounding on his back with her fists.

“If you insist!” Genji said. And with that, he hoisted her up and tossed her as hard as he could. Angela’s face bore a look of sheer surprise in the seconds before she hit the water, her mouth making a little ‘o’ shape.

The salt water stung Angela’s eyes, and she was pretty sure she landed on a rock, but she didn’t care too much. She bobbed and sputtered in the water, roughly shoving the wet hair out of her eyes.

“You asshole!” she said, shoving him hard enough to topple him over.

Genji just grinned. He dunked his head under the water, and then shook his wet hair on her like a big green dog. In retaliation, Angela hooked her foot behind his leg and pulled, sending him off-balance again. She giggled, and waited for him to regain his balance.

“Are you ok, Genji?” she said.

“No!” Genji shouted, “You’ve mortally wounded me!”

Angela faked a gasp, “How can I ever make it up to you?” she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he rested his on her hips.

Genji tapped on his cheek, and made a kissy face. Angela laughed, and took his face in her hands. She smiled tenderly, and leaned in. At the last second, she turned his face so their lips were only millimeters apart. Genji’s eyes widened, and he pulled away. 

“Angela…” he said, shaking his head. 

“You don’t want me to kiss you?” Angela pouted.

Genji shook his head, “I don’t think you want to kiss me. I think you are very high, and you need to go home and get dried off.”

“Just a little while longer?” Angela pleaded, swallowing back her embarrassment, “Look at the sky!” she pointed out towards the horizon. The sun and the ocean inched closer and closer together by the minute, yearning to embrace each other in a cosmic kiss. The sky was shot through with vibrant streaks of orange and pink, and overhead it darkened to a deep indigo colour. 

“Sure,” Genji said, becoming just as mesmerized by the sky as Angela was, “Just a while longer.”

The two stood there waist deep in the ocean, staring at the sunset. The smell of marijuana and salt water hung in the air, making Angela feel like a teenager again, except that she had never been this reckless in her teens. The air started to grow cooler as the warm tones of the sunset gave way to the blues and purples of nightfall. There were goosebumps on Angela’s arms and stomach, but she didn’t care. She could have stood there all night. The sky was captivating to her - the longer she stared at it the more stars and constellations and little details she could see. Genji took Angela’s hand again, and led her out of the water and back up to the blanket. She sat down and gathered it around herself like a towel. She yawned, and laid down.

“Get dressed, Angela. We still have to walk back,” Genji said. He tossed her clothes to her. Angela hummed her agreement, but by the time he was finished getting dressed, she was already asleep. 

Genji groaned.

“Angela, please,” he shook her shoulder. Angela rolled over, out like a light. Genji put his hands on his hips, and wondered just how much upper body strength he had.

About a half hour later, Genji made it back to Angela and Fareeha’s dorm. He had carried Angela in his arms bridal style, all wrapped up in her blanket. He’d almost dropped her at least three times during the walk, but somehow she had slept soundly through the whole ordeal.

Having no free hands, Genji lightly kicked the door instead of knocking. 

Fareeha opened it after only a few seconds.

Genji watched Fareeha’s face go from surprise to confusion to concern as she took in the sight of Angela lying unconscious, soaking wet, and mostly naked in Genji’s arms.

“What the hell happened to you two?” she said, “I thought you were just studying? Is Angela ok?” the concern morphed into terror, “Is she hurt?”

Genji shook his head, “She is fine, just sleeping. We ah - started out studying. And then I got a stupid idea, so we went to the beach.”

Fareeha put her arms out, gathering Angela into her arms. She seemed to lift her effortlessly, or at least with far more ease than Genji. 

Fareeha scowled. “You smell.”

“Thanks,” Genji rolled his eyes, “We smoked a little.”

“ _ We?  _ You mean Angela smoked?” Fareeha’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Genji said, “I know, I couldn’t believe it either. 

“So what you are saying is that you took her to the beach, got her high, and made her strip?” Fareeha deadpanned.

Genji held up his hands, “Hey, no. It wasn’t like that at all. I was also in my underwear. We were both dumb!”

Fareeha didn’t look convinced. She stared down at Angela, sound asleep in her arms. She brushed the damp hair out of her face and pulled the blanket more securely around her. Genji smiled softly despite himself. It was obvious how much Fareeha cared about her. He felt almost like he was intruding on something intimate, something private that no one should have been allowed to witness. Genji turned away, suddenly embarrassed.

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “I should go.”

Fareeha looked up, and she seemed almost surprised that he was still there.

“Thank you for bringing her home,” she said stiffly.

“Of course,” Genji said. He nodded his head, and took his leave. He heard the door quietly click shut behind him not long after.

 

-

 

Hanzo, Amelie, and Satya all sat on the floor with their backs against Hanzo’s bed. A black and white French film played on the laptop sitting in front of them. The subtitles went too fast for Hanzo to read, but when he looked over at Amelie she was mouthing along with every line. 

It was her movie. Hanzo wasn’t quite sure what she’d meant by that, whether she had directed it, acted in it, or just really loved it. Amelie struck him as the type to be into filmmaking, but at the same time the movie looked very old, so it really could go either way. 

Hanzo got the impression that Amelie was trying to be his friend, but had no idea how to express feelings that were not contempt or smugness. He could relate to that, so even though he really,  _ really _ didn’t want to, he had invited her in when she showed up at his door. She’d sat down on his bed, and held up a dvd case.

“This is my movie,” Amelie had said.

“Yours?” Hanzo asked.

“Yes. Mine. Can we watch it?” she said.

Hanzo shrugged, “What is it about?”

Amelie almost smiled, “You’ll see.”

“I guess so,” Hanzo said.

“Good. I invited Satya,” she said. 

“Oh. Ok,” he nodded. He had no idea who Satya was.

There had been a knock on the door then, and Amelie got up to let presumably Satya in. There hadn’t been much more discussion than that. Amelie put the movie on, and there they sat. 

Hanzo knew about five words in French, and every time he picked out one of those words from the film’s rapid dialogue, he felt incredibly proud of himself. Despite his lack of knowledge of the language, he was able to get a general sense of the plot just from the visuals and the subtitles that stayed on screen long enough for him to read.

A woman and a man were engaged to be married. Then the woman meets with the lady doing the flowers for the wedding, and falls in love with her. She tries to leave her fiance, and he becomes violent. The flower lady bursts in and sees the man beating her lover. She attacks him with garden shears, killing him. The two women reunite passionately, and dispose of the body together. They liquidate all of their collective assets and buy a boat, sailing off into the sunset. Happily ever after. 

Amelie’s passion for the movie made Hanzo wonder. Did she see herself in the main character? She had admitted to him less than a week ago that she had killed her boyfriend. Her eyes were still fixed on the screen as the movie ended, raptly taking in the credits. Satya, sitting on his other side, looked like her mind was in a million other places, and she had lost interest in the film about five minutes in.

Hanzo put his hand on Amelie’s shoulder. She jerked away from the touch. 

“Sorry,” he said, “Uh, good movie, I liked it a lot.”

Amelie smiled then. A real smile, making her eyes scrunch up. 

“Thank you,” she said, “Not everyone gets it. I thought you would.”

Hanzo smiled back at her, and then tried to elbow Satya as discretely as possible.

“Hm?” she said, “Oh. Yes, very nice. Thank you for sharing it.”

Amelie looked satisfied with herself, “ _ De rein _ ,” she said.

Hanzo pulled his phone out to check the time. Ten forty-seven. The movie must have been longer than he thought.

The door creaked open then, and Genji walked in, “Hey!” he offered a wave to the three of them. 

When Amelie saw him, she almost looked embarrassed. Like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t. 

“I’m leaving,” she announced. She got up and brushed past Genji on her way out, casting him a scathing look. Amelie didn’t even stop to retrieve her dvd. Satya shrugged, and followed suit. 

“Hanzo,” Genji greeted him.

“You look like you had a fun night,” Hanzo commented. Genji was topless and soaking wet, and had obviously been smoking.

“So do you,” Genji waggled his eyebrows, “ _ Two _ girls?”

Hanzo scowled, “Get your head out of the gutter,” he paused, “Besides, it would not be  _ girls _ .”

“Oh,” Genji said, “I’m sorry I assumed.”

Hanzo shrugged, and closed the laptop on the floor in front of him. The credits were still rolling on the movie.

“Amelie brought Satya and a movie over,” he said.

Genji nodded, “Sounds like an… interesting time.”

Hanzo remembered Amelie’s face as the fiance was stabbed to death with garden shears in black and white, “It certainly was. What about you?”

“Angela and I got high and went swimming,” he said.

“I think you win,” Hanzo half smiled. 

“Damn right,” Genji grinned. He grabbed a towel and rubbed it over his head a few times, before discarding it and flopping down onto his bed. 

Hanzo felt the nervous energy that was quickly becoming far too familiar start to flutter in his stomach. He grit his teeth, and took a deep breath. He had been thinking a lot, and decided that there was only one surefire way to quell his anxiety aside from running away again.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Genji looked taken aback, “What?” 

“I said I’m sorry,” Hanzo repeated, “We fought the other night, and I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

Genji’s face softened, and he went to sit down next to Hanzo. 

“I appreciate that, thank you,” he said, “I know this is difficult for you.”

Hanzo was frustrated, “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily,” he said.

“I didn’t say it was not hard for me,” Genji said, “But I get the sense that you like to punish yourself. You always did when we were young.”

Hanzo was unsure how to respond, so he said nothing.

“I forgave you a long time ago, Hanzo,” Genji went on, “I am ready to move on.”

“I’m not,” Hanzo snapped, “You might be ok with this, but I am  _ not _ . I need to- I just,” he made a noise of frustration.

Genji looked hurt, but resigned. He put an arm around his brother. 

“You need to work through this,” he said, “Please don’t run away again.”

He sounded so small when he said that, it almost broke Hanzo’s heart. He cleared his throat.

“Get off,” he said, gently shoving Genji, “You’re all wet.”

Genji grinned. He shook his head, flicking water droplets all over Hanzo’s face.

“Stop it!” Hanzo said, faking outrage. He shoved Genji again, and Genji laughed 

“Hey,” he said, “I’ve got like seven or eight years of irritating you to catch up on.”

Hanzo laughed, “I suppose I deserve that.”

“Damn right,” Genji flicked his ear, “You brought this on yourself.”

Hanzo gave an overdramatic sigh, “Betrayal at the hands of my own brother.”

He could see Genji’s eyes light up at the word brother, “Guess you’ll just have to kill me again,” he joked 

Hanzo felt like he had been slapped. The smile slide off his face, the words twisting in his gut like a knife. He felt out of breath suddenly, memories swirling around him like he’d been caught in an undertow. He dug his fingernails into the skin of his own arm 

Genji’s expression changed from playful to worried in a matter of seconds. He pulled Hanzo’s hand away from his arm, massaging it until he relaxed.

“Too soon?” he asked.

“Too soon.” Hanzo gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some stuff about this chapter, as always:  
> \- I've never done a marijuana so I have no idea what it's actually like to be high but I did my best  
> \- Cuidar de los niños, Sombra, sea fuerte para ellos = Take care of the children, Sombra, be strong for them.  
> \- petardo = firecracker  
> \- Angela in this chapter is playing what I like to refer to as "straight chicken" which is like gay chicken except instead of two dudes not knowing how to express affection for each other in a healthy way it's Angela having feelings that she doesn't know what to do with and transferring them onto the most acceptable person in her mind (Genji) but not being able to commit because she's not actually attracted to him.  
> \- I am such a sucker for the falling asleep on each other trope  
> \- I just want to hug Amelie she's trying so hard i cry  
> \- Again, I know -6 about video games (other than ovw obv) so I am v sorry if I messed anything up !!  
> \- Next chapter will b much gayer I promise !!  
> \- Goodnight friends I'll see you in two weeks ily

**Author's Note:**

> Questions? Comments? Concerns? Bad translation spotted? Contact me at https://pharamercyy.tumblr.com/ or leave a comment down below!


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